


The Scarlet Knight's Misadventures

by NemesisNyx, Varalisse



Series: The Falasion Legacy [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Angst and Humor, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Inappropriate Behavior, Interspecies Relationship(s), Je'daii, Jedi shenanigans, Multi, My First Work in This Fandom, Not Canon Compliant, Political Alliances, Rough Sex, Sith Shenanigans, Story Has Its Own Mind, Violence, Will Not Be Following KotFE, Work In Progress, authority issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-05-14 05:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14763782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NemesisNyx/pseuds/NemesisNyx, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Varalisse/pseuds/Varalisse
Summary: This is the story of a pure blooded Sith as he begins his adventures in the Star Wars: The Old Republic game made by Bioware. A lot of the story elements will be tied to the game, but for the most part, it will be the character's own take on things. He will be the one deciding where and how things will happen, since this is HIS story. I'm just the one narrating it with the help of my friend AnotherHollyDay.Book 1 will cover Chapter 1 of the SWTOR original Jedi Knight class story with the character's own spin on events.Book 2 will cover Chapter 2 of the SWTOR original Jedi Knight class story with the character's own spin on events.Book 3 will cover Chapter 3 of the SWTOR original Jedi Knight class story with the character's own spin on events.Book 3 will cover Chapter 4 of the SWTOR story (Ilum, Oricon, Makeb) with the character's own spin on events.Book 4 will cover Chapter 5 of the SWTOR story (Korriban, Tython, Manaan, Rishi, Yavin and Ziost) with the character's own spin on eventsBook 5 and beyond will not follow KotFE, KotET, etc and will be entirely up to the characters to determine.





	1. Book 1 Chapter 1: Tython Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> I am taking a lot of liberties with my main character. The fun part about the EU is that it's not canon, so I can do what I want as long as it makes sense. 
> 
> The main character is not a Sith Pureblood as classified by SWTOR. He is a pure blooded Sith from a lost colony that immigrated from Korriban after the defeat of the Infinite Empire. 
> 
> Thravang Isâhur Rath - pure blooded male Sith who is the Hero of Tython (mine)  
> Krawocan - male Chiss Imperial Agent who is the Ghost (mine)  
> Zhalissa Israka - female Sith Pureblood Sith Warrior who is the Wrath (mine)  
> Felahiran Torenil - male Mirialan Jedi Consular who is the Barsen'thor (mine)  
> Zychavor Rhuzur - male Cathar Sith Inquisitor (mine)  
> Sihobeon Kallig - female human Sith Inquisitor who becomes Darth Imperius (AnotherHollyDay)  
> Rhiawen - female Chiss trooper who is the Havoc Squad CO (AnotherHollyDay)  
> Hywela - female Chiss bounty hunter who is the Champion of the Great Hunt (AnotherHollyDay)  
> Melangell - female Chiss smuggler who is the Voidhound (AnotherHollyDay)  
> Rowenda - female Chiss Jedi Consular (AnotherHollyDay)
> 
> More might be added as the story warrants. 
> 
> I also don't have a set writing schedule. I will post as time permits. 
> 
> I would like to thank erunamiryene for inspiring to write my own fan fic, and I also would like to thank Fluffynexu for her/his lovely notes on Sith biology. However, I have my own ideas about Sith biology and anatomy as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten March 2019 to reflect background story development for Thravang.

Book 1 Ch 1: Tython Prelude

Beginning of early spring 8 ATC

Deep maroon nostrils flared in the semi gloom inside the cockpit of the XS stock freighter _Unbroken Mistress_ as a oddly garbed figure sat in one of the chairs. A dark grey hood shrouded the figure's face from view as orbs of molten silver gleamed in the inky darkness contained within the cowl. A soft grunt and creaking of leather was heard as the hooded figure leaned forward to peer at the instrumentation on the console panels and readouts on the monitors. A few moments prior, the ship had just dropped out of hyperspace into real space and was now approaching a planet stained a deep red on its horizons. Its stratosphere appeared at this distance as a haze of reddish orange which seemed to fascinate the hooded male, for male it was, as he spoke to the Captain in heavily accented Basic "Captain, planet name it called?" His tone implied great curiosity.

"Aeten II, but we spacers just call it Aeten," the pepper and salt haired brown eyed human Captain answered with a sidelong glance at his strange companion. The Captain wasn't certain what to make of him. He was clearly young, but yet there was a sense of poise and command to him. By the Captain's standards, the stranger was a fully grown man since he stood as tall as the Captain, yet he had this unfinished look to him, as if he had not reached his full growth. His Basic was difficult to understand at the best of times, and at the worst of times, his Basic was broken. The _Unbroken Mistress_ had been traveling in hyperspace for over a week now on a job from the mysterious figure's homeworld where only select smugglers were permitted to do business there. Every other spacer got shot up to bits and pieces of junk floating in space by the small but highly competent defense fleet that guarded the planet. The Captain finally decided to ask a question "Have you ever been off world before?"

The dark hooded head turned towards him and tilted as he pondered the question. There was a sense that he was mentally translating the question. The Captain found himself staring at two molten silver eyes that actually glowed within the cowl's shadow. It was rather unnerving to say the least. There was a slow blink of those strange eyes before the man, actually a youngster of some sixteen years, simply shook his head in response. He preempted the next question by commenting "Your escort I am, King say. King his reason has." There was a fluid shrug of shoulders not yet broad under the dark grey mantle. "Not good time, so I argue not." He flicked a finger at a flashing button on the communications console. "Calling you, someone is."

With another creaking of leather, the hooded man/youngster rose and withdrew to the shadows of the short passageway that laid between the cockpit and the crew lounge where his fellow escort sat as the older adult observed the skeleton crew playing a game of dejarik. The youngster was far more interested in idly watching as the Captain hit the flashing button and listened in as a blue hologram of the spaceport administrator flash into view. Since the outer layers of his clothing were gray and black, he wasn't apparently visible, so it was safe for him to linger in the shadows without raising suspicion. The spaceport administrator assigned the Captain to a docking bay and gave the coordinates for said docking bay. The spaceport administrator wished the Captain a safe landing and disappeared from view as the hologram dimmed out.

He quietly strode back to the chair he had been sitting, and the chair protested rather loudly as he sat down. The youngster turned to glance at the chair then at the Captain, then deliberately made the chair protest a few more times as he spun it around before he settled himself firmly with smothered giggles. Then the youngster grew more serious now that he had his moment of juvenile fun. The Captain had grimaced at the sounds with a pained expression on his pasty white face, but had held his peace. There was no point in possibly jeopardizing a source of steady work this far out in Wild Space. There was the sense that the mysterious stranger had been amused by the squeaky chair. All the Captain knew was that there had been some murmuring among the escorts assigned to him and his crew. As if they hadn't quite approved of his escort accompanying the older adults. Perhaps he was thought too young for escort duty? The Captain could only speculate as he scratched at an itch on his neck since he had no standard to measure his escorts by save only that the young male with him in the cockpit looked unfinished compared to the other adults.

Then there fell a palpable silence in the cockpit save for the assorted sounds coming from the consoles as the Captain guided his ship closer and closer to the planet which grew to a fiery red in the cockpit windows as the ship homed on the planet. "How plants there grow with sky orange?" The hooded man made a gesture at the definitely orangish red sky as the ship descended through it on approach to the spaceport.

The Captain now softly chuckled "You'll see when we land, my Lord." _My Lord_ was the polite form of address the smugglers used with the Tsis they did smuggling jobs for, and from what the Captain and his crew had seen of their bosses, it seemed rather appropriate. What made the Captain and his crew regard their employers as strange was the fact that their employers were not interested in acquiring _wealth_. Instead, they were far more interested in acquiring knowledge and equipment that they could reverse engineer to learn and adapt to their own designs. Plus what they couldn't provide for themselves from the natural resources of their home world, of course. _That_ was always a given. No world was never completely self-sufficient. That was the current job they were on, to acquire something their bosses wanted, and to sell something that their bosses had no use for. Namely four former pirate spaceships. They already possessed knowledge of the technology on the ships they had captured, so there were no need to strip and salvage the ships. Captain Angfarod had recommended that they sell the ships, and after some consideration, his employers had agreed. Hence, the visit to Aeten II and his special escort in the form of the Tsis adults that accompanied him. Two were with him on the _Unbroken Mistress_ The ship was rather quiet because most of his crew were piloting the other ships that would be sold planetside, and each of the four ships to be sold had a Tsis escort aboard.

The male hooded Tsis escort that accompanied Captain Angfarod in the cockpit had been rather interesting company, truth be told. He had asked _so many_ questions about the places that the smugglers had been to, and where had they come from, and why they had become spacers in the first place. The human man chuckled and hadn't minded the endless questions. It simply proved to Otheri that the Tsis could be just like other people with a healthy sense of curiosity. Even if the other Tsis escort on board the ship hadn't approved of all the endless questioning. The elder had spoken to the younger in tones that clearly indicated disapproval, even if the language they used was not Basic, and there had been quite a flurry of sharp words exchanged betwixt the twain which the younger had seemed to win. The elder escort had been mostly silent after that. The Captain had finally ventured to ask the younger escort about it. The youngster had given him a long penetrating look then merely commented “Rank, I pulled.” There was also the underlying tone of _This is a private matter. Best not ask._ So Otheri had not asked any further about the argument, even if his curiosity was eating him alive. The ship cut through the winds as the spaceport came into plain view. "Oh good, we're almost there," the Captain commented rather needlessly.

The hooded man simply nodded then inquired "Windy all time?" The human shook his head. The weather may not affect space faring ships, but the effects were still plain to see in the forms of clouds scuttling across at high speed, and lightning crackling in the air. There was a pause as Thravang caught view of something and rose from his chair for a better view as he leaned closer to the cockpit windows. He pointed a finger at the view of the volcanic field “Things blow up. Many things. Few, we have. What you call things blow up?” He never had seen so many in one relatively small geological area. He nearly plastered his face against the view port, and the cowl on his head managed to stay upright and his left hand reached up to tug it firmly back into place. His left hand was half hidden by the shadows next to the view port, but seemed to be missing a finger, and the fingertips were rather pointed.

Captain Angfarod chuckled at his escort's utter fascination with the volcanoes "We call those volcanoes. V-o-l-c-a-n-o-e-s. One of those things that blow up is a volcano." Thravang's head turned towards the human Captain, and his silver eyes in the darkness of his cowl narrowed as his unseen facial features deepened into a scowl. Nevertheless, the young man did not comment on how Otheri had spoken to him. This language of the smugglers, he was horrible with, that much was true. The Captain murmured "My pardon, my Lord." There was a faint tremor in his voice. Thravang's ridged brow deepened at that. There was no reason for the Captain to fear him. Was there?

Thravang waved aside the apology with a shake of his head “Your language, hard is. Many words, I know not." Captain Angfarod nodded and turned back to the consoles as he steered the _Unbroken Mistress_ to his assigned docking bay and breathed a sigh of relief as the ship touched down onto firm ground. Otheri was always glad when he arrived safely at a spaceport in one piece.

As soon as the XS freighter's landing gear touched the ground, people poured out of the central building that sat in the middle courtyard. There were several other landing pads arranged around the central building and those were now being occupied by the ships just landed by the rest of the smuggler crew. "If you'll excuse me, my Lord, I best go and take care of the landing protocols," Captain Angfarod said as he rapidly rose to his feet and grabbed his datapad before hastily exiting the cockpit area. A moment later, Thravang heard the hissing of the ship's ramp as it opened then extended downwards from the fuselage to the ground. He remained seated a few more moments before checking his sword scabbard to make sure it hung free at his right side before he rose to his feet.

He slowly walked to the gaping maw of the door and paused just inside the inky shadows as he peered downwards towards the Captain. He crossed his arms as his silver eyes flitted from person to person as they bustled around the ship. Some seemed to be bringing the fueling pipes and hooking them up to the _Unbroken Mistress_. He did note that all of the workers seemed to be male. Did their women stay home and do nothing but birth babies? Back home, there were no idle layabouts. Everyone did their share regardless of gender. Even the Ruling House members had work to do.

Captain Angfarod glanced up at him just then, and saw a shrouded figure mostly hidden by the shadows standing by the ramp entry. Dark gray patterned robes and hood helped him blend in more with the shadows. His Tsis escort were so mysterious. There were still so little he knew about his bosses. He did know Lord Thravang to be far less formal than the other Tsis escorts from the way they had conversed in that Basic of his. The elder escort had barely spoken to Otheri – he had seemed content to leave the dealings to his younger colleague. He turned back to the spaceport administrator and handed over his datapad. After several minutes of perusal, the weary looking administrator finally said "Everything's in order then, Captain. I'll not delay you further from your pleasure and business." With the emphasis being placed on pleasure.

Thravang silently raised an eyebrow at that before he shook his head at that. Of course, he had been reckoned too young yet to have acquired an education in that particular subject. His nostrils flared again as he took in a deep breath of the fresh air. Well, he wouldn't necessarily call it fresh compared to the scents of his home, but it certainly was fresh compared to the air abroad the ship. He lightly stepped down the ramp in his black leather boots doing his best not to draw far too much attention to himself. He came to a full stop by the human Captain, and he stood at shoulder height next to the human. He lightly touched Captain Angfarod's elbow "What now? These ships, sell you them?" He indicated the other XS freighters with a gesture of his hand.

"Spaceport administrator says they have someone in charge here to handle that. Can handle repairs too, or so I've been told," the Captain replied with another glance at him.

Thravang grunted softly "Fine, it suits. Lead way, you do . Assume you this place know well. If you know not, shall wander city?" There was a sense that the man had a smile in the shadows of his cowl.

The Captain chuckled "Nah, my Lord, I know my ways around these parts." This male Tsis seemed more genial and affable than the other escorts he has had in the past. The others had been so taciturn and reserved. Not to say that Thravang didn't take his duties seriously, but his youth was clear in his voice.

As they walked through the wall arch that delineated the separation between the spaceport and the market bazaar, the Captain finally decided to inquire after his escort's age. "My Lord, I was hoping you wouldn't mind a question. How old are you?"

A sidelong measuring glance then "Ten and six cold seasons, have I seen."

The Captain laughed "My Lord, you're as tall as me. Surely you jest."

A shake of the head inside the dark grey hood "No. I funny not make." Thravang did not deem it fit to tell Captain Angfarod that his father had already passed three hundred years. There was a pause as the spaceport slowly started receding behind them as their footsteps took them further into the bazaar then Thravang gestured at the various stores "So, tell me you, how people here live?" As they had walked down the street, Thravang's eyes had constantly shifted from one object to another. Sometimes it was people that he glanced at, sometimes it was objects that had attracted his curiosity. Sometimes it was buildings. Although, he observed that the buildings seemed to be much of the sameness on the exterior. A dull drab gray with two windows and a door, and not much variation on that. Hanging over all the various stores and houses, the reddish sky haze persisted.

The Captain hadn't missed the way his escort's hooded head had turned towards this and that "My Lord, this planet is mostly a mining outpost, but spacers do come here on jobs when they get hired."

There was a pause and nod before Thravang commented "Women, I not see. First thing notice I when ship land."

"The miners usually hire out here for jobs that last two or three years before they transfer to somewhere more family friendly and save up their credits since the jobs pay well here," the Captain explained to his young escort. "What about your people? Do they have miners?"

"Yes. Miners, we have. Both men and women. Axe care not what hand holds." He pantomimed striking a rock with a mining pickaxe. Thravang paused then slowed to stand outside a dusty storefront as he tilted his head to read the business sign in Basic very slowly. The sign said Aeten Shipyard Merchandise. "Think I this what we need." He reached a four fingered gloved hand to touch the door panel and it softly snicked open to admit the two.

"Axes? Are your people that primitive?" Captain Angfarod asked with shock writ all over in his voice.

"No. Use I words know I. Your language, hard talk." Thravang answered as he stepped over the threshold into the shop's well lit main room. Pale lights bathed the merchandise available for sale sitting either under cover in cases, or on metal pallets out on the open floor space. He paused to survey the room and noted that all the objects were spaceship parts, and they all seemed to come from various different types. He also had caught sight of the merchant consulting a datapad behind the counter at the back of the room. He swiveled around and strode with purpose towards the counter with the Captain in tow. There was a soft rustling of his robes as they settled around his body as he halted in front of the counter and merchant. He looked the shop merchant over with a critical eye. "Captain. This right man, he?"

Captain Angfarod gave him a good eyeballing and nodded "Yes. He doesn't have that shifty look. He looks honest enough to me."

"Very well. Talk you to him.” What went unsaid was the fact that Thravang didn't really have much of a choice.

There was now a puzzled expression on the light skinned human merchant as he regarded the two as his head twisted to and forth between them several times. The sable haired male wasn't certain what to make of the pair now. "Excuse me a moment." He tapped several keys on the datapad he had been reading.

_Interesting personage here. Not native Basic speaker. Heavy but peculiar accent. Not Imperial, but there is a similarity. Hood up, hard to see face in shadows. Silver eyes that glow. Dressed in grey robes and leather armour with black and purple accents. Armed with strange fancy looking blade, looks like maybe vibrosword... but isn't. Hard to ID. Be on alert. - Jonas_

"Sorry about that, I had to send an associate of mine a note about a business contract that just got signed," the human spoke as he set the datapad aside just out of view. "Welcome to my shop. As you must have already observed, I specialize in starship parts and repairs. Call me Tosinec. Gentlemen, what brings you two to my shop?" Tosinec's cornflower blue eyes regarded them in a friendly fashion, just as if he was used to dealing with quaint strangers on a daily basis at his shop.

Captain Angfarod nodded "It's like this, you see. I and my companion here," he jerked a thumb at Thravang "have several freighter ships we would like to sell. They were pirate ships, and we haven't got use for them. They're spaceworthy, but they'll be in need of repairs just the same before they're fit for jobs."

Tosinec raised an eyebrow as he rubbed his chin "How did you get a hold of those ships?" he asked carefully.

It was Thravang who answered "Fools, they." he paused as he hunted for the right words "Think they my people easy fights." He shrugged lightly “Die, they do.”

"Got problems with pirates, eh?" Tosinec asked as he hastily thought through what the deeply hooded stranger had said, and more specifically had NOT said. Like how the man hadn't given details about his home nor how the attacks had been handled. No details about his people either. Aside from the pirates being dead, obviously.

Thravang simply nodded with a sour grunt "Every full change of seasons." His grey hood shook from side to side "All time, they die. Fools." The last word was uttered with disdain.

Captain Angfarod verbally prodded Tosinec "So what about it, Tosinec? I'll take you to see the ships to verify the truth of our words." Tosinec agreed, and left with the Captain in tow as they traced the Captain's path back to the spaceport. Thravang did not accompany the Captain, he did not wish to interfere with the Captain, the Captain would know how to haggle for a fair price far better than he. So instead, he simply stepped outside and surveyed the dim street with a thoughtful look as he considered where he could wander to next. He spotted a sign further down the street that displayed a diagram of what looked to be a drinking glass. Ah, a cantina, perhaps. Cantinas had come up in his rather stinted conversations with Otheri, and he was fascinated with the concept of a cantina. They simply didn't exist back home. He turned to walk towards the sign and paused just inside the door so he could check out the surroundings.

Wary silvered eyes roamed here and there as he surveyed the main room. There were stools in front of the bar counter, and there were several booths lined next to three walls. There was also a raised platform where several females were apparently dancing. He stared at them for several long moments then slightly shook his head. They were rather.... scantily clad. No self respecting woman at home would wear _those_ outfits. He simply didn't know what to call those ... garments. Within his cowl, he silently made a face that spoke of his distaste as he spotted a fairly dark table he could seat himself at. With a creaking of leather, sliding of his two toned gray asymmetrical robe against a knee length trimmed leather long sleeved brigandine hiding a black armorweave mesh tunic, and rustling of his wrapped trews and forearms, Thravang settled himself in the darkened booth. He leaned his back firmly against the wall as he idly watched the dancers. The lead dancer was some new species to him that he had never seen before. Rather lithe she was, with dark purple skin and what seemed to be amethyst purple eyes. Now that was a new eye color he hadn't seen before. What really grabbed his attention as he did his best not to let his jaw gape open was the appendages that flowed out of her head, one to each side. He wondered if that was natural to her kind, or some sort of construct to make herself more ... exotic. After a moment of intense scrutiny, it became apparent that those... appendages? were entirely natural. He simply didn't know what else to call those things. Tentacles? Tendrils, they definitely weren't. She had some fancy headdress on, and her ears weren't even human shaped. He tilted his head as he mused on those head tails with his hand supporting his heavily "bearded" chin resting on the table. A waitress had spotted him and approached him. He gave her a sidelong glance. At least she was dressed more modestly than those dancers, and he nodded cordially to her. The mousy brown haired human cleared her throat and asked "Is anything I can get you, sir?"

He blinked his eyes and straightened his back as his hand dropped to the table from his chin. A pause passed while he considered his options. A quick peer around the main room showed no sign of his Captain, so he had no one to ask for advice. He frowned before he finally replied "Have I will what people here order." He just would have to hope that the _what_ was actually drinkable to him. Folks were known to have strange tastes, or so the Captain had told him during the trip here.

She nodded as she made a note of his order on her datapad and quickly scurried away as if he was someone to be obeyed. Which earned another frown from him. Sure, he was accustomed to specific treatment at home, but he wasn't that aristocratic in his bearing, or so he thought. Did he really give that impression? Were all the customers surly? Finally he shook his head and went back to his perusal of that fascinating dancer.

In the meantime, Captain Angfarod had shown Tosinec the ships that they were intending to sell, and they had set to haggling on the price per ship. All the ships were basically space worthy but needed repairs from the space battle they had been in over Thravang's home world. His people preferred to disable the ships to force them into planetside landings so they could be boarded with ground forces in order to preserve as much as possible. The pirates themselves? Well, that was an entirely different matter. After a brief but intense discussion, they agreed on fifty thousand credits each for a total of two hundred thousand credits. Tosinec counted out the credit sticks and handed them over to the Captain who smiled and nodded as he tucked them into his long jacket in various different spots. "Good deal, happy to have done business with you, Tosinec. You might get repeat business in the future from my employers." With a tip of his wide brimmed hat, Captain Angfarod turned around and went looking for his youthful escort. His crew filed into the _Unbroken Mistress_ to change their dirty garb before they would settle into the crew lounge to play games and drink under the watchful tawny orange eyes of their second Tsis escort. That particular Tsis held himself in a reserved manner and spoke little. The Captain had strict rules about offshore leave - no offshore leave while on a job. It helped them keep a professional outlook, and got them more business since their bosses knew that they wouldn't start trouble off ship. They got paid better so his crew couldn't really complain about the rules.

Suddenly the lead dancer noticed Thravang sitting at his table in the darkened corner with his searching gaze on her, and there was a quiet intake of breath from him as she chuckled richly and motioned to the waitress to bring her his drink. Thravang was pretty positive that he had been spotted. He would have to wait and see what she was going to do next. He hoped it was nothing _too_ exciting. He sat rooted to his spot as she slowly walked to his table. All eyes were on her. _Dujikri_ _!_ He had not wanted to draw attention to himself. He became tense as he readied himself for trouble as she drew right up next to his table. She looked him up and down with a slow appreciative smile "My you're certainly a mysterious fella, aren't you?" She fluttered her eyelashes at him in an alluring manner as his mouth actually sagged open in surprise. Definitely not the trouble he was expecting, but this was trouble of another sort. One he wasn't certain how to deal with. Sure, he had a lot of cultural discussions with Otheri, but it sure didn't include lessons on how to handle such blatant come-ons. Gracefully.

Right now all he could was stare at her in a mix of shock and surprise as his mouth gaped open to show his pointed teeth. She cooed to him "There, now, no need to get all uptight, mystery guy." She slowly sipped at his drink, certain that his eyes were on her since those silver orbs in the shadows of his hood rested squarely on her, and licked her lips. There was a blink from those eyes she found fascinating as Thravang slowly but firmly pulled his scattered thoughts together. At least her tongue hadn't been purple or some odd color. A normal pink. Quite unfortunately, he had forgotten that his mouth still hung ajar. There was another intake of breath, more sharp this time, as she slid her hand into the depths of his cowl to find his chin and closed his mouth. Of course, she just had to run the tip of one finger over his teeth before she had closed his mouth for him. She arched one supposedly fetching eyebrow as she oh so lightly guided her hand down one side of his jaw "I wager that you would look quite interesting in person," she all but purred while she rapidly ran some thoughts through her mind. He wasn't reacting the way she would have thought a male of his supposed species would. They were known to be quite aggressive, weren't they? Even one supposedly undercover and disguised. Granted, this one had a very strange style of garb, but his species were known to be eccentric in taste. She should have been in his lap and locked with his lips while she did.... other things. Perhaps time to try a different angle.

He managed to find his tongue and managed to stammer out "My.... drink?" He held out his hand, slightly shaking, for the glass. He was going to have to work on his composure, he decided, once he escaped from this... socially awkward situation he had unwittingly placed himself in.

She decided to shape her pale purple lips into a pretty pout "I'm sure there are things.. I can do for you," as she placed his drink in his hand. She lightly ran a hand over his bare hand and down his wrapped forearm. Hmm, there was armour hidden beneath the leather brigandine sleeve under the gray robe, and she noted that the grey sturdy leather was of very fine tanning and extremely soft to the touch. "Perhaps this, for example," she said just before she leaned in towards him as she made to kiss him. Some of the customers present were grinning as they hooted and clapped for him. Apparently they thought it was a good thing. A good thing this was not for him. He had to suppress his rising sense of outrage at such an invasion of his personal boundaries.

 _Sûdas!_ Thravang truly did not wish to be rude, but she was leaving him with precious few options. Just about when he was going to firmly shove her away with the Force, the Captain entered whistling a merry tune and saw the dire straits his escort had landed himself in. Choking back a laugh, he quickened his pace. Thravang rapidly shot a look at him that said _Do something before I do._ "Excuse me, miss!" Captain Angfarod planted a hearty smack on her rather lovely ass "You'll have to pardon me. I have unfinished business with this gentleman of yours." Thinking quickly, he leaned closer and whispered just loud enough for his escort to hear too "Besides, such a beauty as you wouldn't want to be responsible for him losing his rather admirable manhood, now do you? You see, he's promised to a woman back home, and she'll object quite strongly if she finds out that another woman sampled his goods first." With quite a genial smile and wink at her, the Captain slid into the bench opposite Thravang "However, there's no such issue with me," he gave her another considerably friendly wink.

The Twi'lek woman had quickly straightened and backed away from the table with a genuine sulk on her face. Damn! She would have to tell the others that their mark hadn't been cooperative, and that there was a complication to their mission. Namely the Captain. Nevertheless, she still did have a part to play and not blow her cover. She still possessed an irrational desire to really find out what lurked beneath those two toned grey robes and cowl of that man. He definitely wasn't behaving at all like what she and the others had expected. She turned to look over the Captain with a musing eye. Well he wasn't bad on the eyes, but she had the feeling that her target would have been ... quite ... exotic. "Well once you finish your business, Captain, feel free to return here and look me up. Name's Rada." With a flip of her lekku, she returned to the platform and resumed dancing. Damn! Double damn!

Otheri chuckled as he shook his head at his companion "Whew. Rather a narrow escape, that. She was about to kiss you." He paused and tilted his head as he lowered his voice "I find it odd that you didn't seem interested."

Thravang did not bother to remind the Captain of his manners. Now wasn't the time to bring it up. It would only serve to bring more attention than that dancer had. He took a large swallow of his beer "Not proper, that was." He cocked an eyebrow at the Captain to see if he caught the meaning behind his words. Thravang lifted his glass to his lips and drained the pint empty "Very shocked I was. Not give permission." He flicked a finger at the dancers "Do that many times?"

"In cantinas, yes," the Captain told him quite frankly. "It's a way for them to make extra coin to support themselves and their children." At Thravang's body language that indicated he was stunned at the words, he quickly added "Female dancers don't have husbands, as a general rule." The Captain suddenly had the sense that he had missed something in what Thravang had tried to say. What was it? There was a sense of outrage emanating from him, but why? Rada was quite a beauty, he should have felt very flattered to have drawn her attention. He was sixteen, wasn't he?

Thravang slowly shook his head as he muttered something in Tsis under his breath that sounded quite uncomplimentary "Well. Life not fair, I suppose." He still frowned, and his voice reflected his disapproval on the subject. He decided it prudent to change the subject so he wouldn't dwell on the dancer and her impropriety "How deal go with Tosinec?"

"We settled on 50 thousand credits per ship," Otheri told him. "It's a good price, considering that he has to repair them before he can sell them for a profit. It's part of business." Thravang bobbed his understanding as the Captain handed him his share "I've already taken my cut for myself and my crew."

There was a wordless assent as Thravang stuffed his share into secure hidden compartments inside his brigandine within his robes. "My thanks you have." He knew that the Captain would not have cheated on his pay, he wasn't that sort. His people carefully screened the people they hired to do some off the grid work for them. Besides, Otheri Angfarod knew too well the price he and his crew would pay if they ever did renege on their unwritten contract with the Tsis. "Now pay I for drink." He rose from the table and picked his way through the dancing crowd to the bar to speak with the bartender. He settled the tab with the tough looking man and then quietly added "This, give dancer name Rada. Tell her say I thank for … _interesting_ lesson, aye?" The bartender laughed as he took the payment for both the drink and the dancer "I'll make sure to tell Rada that you said so."

Another wordless bow of his head, and Thravang spun around on his wrapped knee length boots and strode out of the cantina with the Captain hot on his heels. As soon as the two were gone, Rada made her way over to the bar to speak with the bartender. He handed her the little “tip” Thravang had left for her with a chuckle "Here you go, Rada. Said you made things too interesting." Rada could only twitch her head sideways in disbelief as she muttered an expletive then accepted the tip. "Right, thanks." She clocked herself out and disappeared through the black and blue curtained door behind the dancer platform to contact the others.

_Double damn! He was here. Ordered a local drink. He did do a lot of staring at me, but it wasn't like the usual staring. You know what I mean. Tried to get all friendly with him, he just didn't react to me at all when I caressed him. Except that he was shocked and outraged. Was about to get more direct when his spacer friend arrived and smacked my ass to divert my focus. Decided it was best not to make scene and retreated. They're gone now. He might be what we suspect, but he's not acting like one of those. That accent of his sounds too genuine to be faked, but what a voice he has, it would make any girl weak in her knees. He even PAID for his drink and left me a tip. Be wary, and be alert. - Yrada_

_Did you see his face? - Jonas_

_No, just his gorgeous eyes, but I did get a feel for his face. He has the cheek tendrils, but they're much longer than normal and his beard feels far more full, but not full length. He sounded young to me, so maybe his beard is more “stubble” at this point, but he is no boy. Oh, did I mention that his teeth are pointy? And did I mention that his eyes are silver? - Yrada_

"Tosinec" could only sigh with exasperation as he glared at the encoded message on his datapad from Yrada. He swiftly typed back and pressed send _You silly girl._ _Only a girl like you could figure that out without seeing his face. How did you NOT manage to see his face? - Jonas_

_Fine, then you hit on him next time. I'll love to see THAT. His hood stayed up and he did not take it down. Like I said, I didn't want to make a scene. Now butt out if you don't want to take a turn at playing cantina dancer - Yrada_

Meanwhile, the intrepid pair made their way back down the street to another shop. They were silently trailed by someone who took great pains to keep herself hidden in the shadows. Even when people glanced at her, they did not see the blonde haired, green eyed human nor the brown robes she wore with lightsaber hanging from her belt. The Captain paused in front of the door as he glanced up at the sign which said Aeten Miner Exchange. Thravang now wore a frown on his brow deep within his cowl. He kept sensing something on the edge of his awareness, but he didn't know what it was, and it kept bothering him. His hood kept twisting from side to side as he slipped through the door entry into the main room behind the Captain. He even had craned his head to look behind him a few times

The hidden shadow found a quiet nook in the side alley next to the exchange and sent word to the others _Be especially wary. I have cause to believe that he can sense my presence in the Force. I've been trailing them since the cantina, and he keeps looking as if he can sense something, but isn't sure what it is. Captain gives no sign that he has noticed anything out of the ordinary. If our mark can wield the Force, he keeps it well cloaked. I will continue to trail but not certain how long I can. Be on the alert. - Briandi_

_Just great, what we need. A Force user that we have no knowledge about and is an enigma to us. Not good. At least we have you Jedi here to deal with him if necessary. - Jonas_

_Have no fear. He will be dealt with accordingly. All will be well in the end. - Iakan_

_They are here now. I'll get back to you once they are gone. - Callan_

The person who ran the exchange turned to greet the pair with a shy but engaging smile. He had dark brown hair with chocolate brown eyes, and his skin was a dark olive tone, and his teeth were a pearly white as he continued to smile at the pair. He set his hands on the counter "Gentlemen, how may I help you today?"

Thravang let his silver eyes drift around the room as he stepped up to the counter and leaned against it with his elbow on the counter "Understand I that Aeten things from mines have?" The room was rather empty of wares. Instead, it had benches for people to sit on, and various monitors hung on the walls to display pertinent information. One monitor had running advertisements for positions to be filled. Another monitor showed the current mining quotas for the day. A third monitor displayed the safety regulations and company codes and how many days each mine had been accident free, and a fourth one had readouts on the current market prices for the various commodities that were mined on the planet.

Callan was suddenly interested and piqued. Why would this man want what he was asking for? He had to find out. "The mines produce certain minerals and crystals here. Aeten is rather known for stygium crystals."

Thravang silently raised an eyebrow at the mention of crystals. Well, now that was something his people could use. His people knew how to forge Force imbued weapons, but _natural_ crystals were hard to come by so they had to synthesize their own. Many mines for gemstones they did have, but precious few that were suitable for use as crystals in those weapons. He pursed his lips in thought as he considered the matter before asking "Crystal price?"

"2 thousand credits per crystal," Callan told him "since there's no third party merchant involved. This would be a direct sale from the source to the buyer, as it were." Then the man waited to see what their mark would do next.

"Show crystal first." Thravang considered that to be a simple request that the merchant should have no problem meeting. It was only common sense. Come to think of it, the merchant hadn't introduced himself. On second thought, he did seem to be on the shy side. He was here to run the exchange, not chat.

There was a pause before Callan acquiesced to the rather imperious request. The male human went to one of the cases behind the counter, opened it and pulled out one crystal. He turned around and put it on top of the counter. Thravang studied the crystal for a long moment before he cautiously touched it with a clawed finger. His charcoal grey forearm wrappings ran down to his wrists, and hid most of a tattoo on his left hand and wrist. His hand skin was a maroon so dark to be near black, and ridged on the top of his hand. There was no reaction to his touch, so he picked up the clear crystal and peered at it from all angles. The crystal was a hexagonal prism ending at a six sided pyramid on top. He hefted it in his palm to test its weight, and found that it was not heavy, and it was only three inches in length. He made a deep "hmm" noise in his throat. A bit long for a weapon crystal, but it would serve. That was assuming that this type of crystal would work for the purpose he had in mind.. Not every crystal was the right type to be used as a component for their forgings. He gently placed it back down on the counter and surveyed the man. There was a presence about the man that niggled at him. He tilted his head at Callan and let his gaze roam up and down. Only the movement of his grey hood and his molten silver eyes indicated that he was studying the man. Callan did his best to remain stoic despite the intense scrutiny he was getting from the hooded visitor to his shop.

Captain Otheri Angfarod finally sensed that perhaps not all were as things should be. He touched Thravang on top of his gray mantle which covered the robes beneath. "Is there something the matter?" he inquired with concern in his voice.

"'Captain. Nothing wrong. Uneasy I am." There was one of his long pauses while he hunted for appropriate words "Too many.... unknown." He couldn't help but shrug "Feel I something hidden. Not trouble but,” he let his words trail off into oblivion as he patted his stomach, hoping that the Captain would understand what he was trying to convey.

Otheri wrinkled his forehead in hard thought as he rubbed his chin for a few moments before he ventured a guess “You mean that something's bothering you, but you don't know what it is, and you've got a gut feeling about it, but it's nothing too serious?”

Thravang now gave quite a pleased smile as he nodded eagerly “Aye.” Then he turned back to the human "How many I buy? No trouble.”

Callan rubbed a finger on his chin. _Damn he's more clever than we estimated_ was his inner thought, but none of that showed on his face as he considered his answer. "Legally, I can allow you to purchase them, but I simply must know what you intend to do with them first."

Thravang regarded Callan for a long moment “Research, my people do." He tapped the crystal with a finger "Not many back home good for work. Most good only pretties." He pretended to be putting on various items of jewelry. "Buy only few." He tilted his head to consider the amount before he continued "Twenty. That few, not many."

 _Huh, only twenty? It can not be for weapon research. That few would not accomplish much, if anything. Plus, he speaks with a strange cadence to his speech, and his Basic is very badly broken_ was his new mental thought as Callan smiled "Twenty? That few, I can sell to you without having to go through this pile of requisition and authorization forms." He tapped another datapad with the appropriate forms and displayed all the forms to Thravang that he would have had to sign had he wanted a larger order.

Thravang whistled in dismay and shook his head at the datapad before he asked "Crystal twenty, price?” He tapped a finger on the counter as he counted up the quoted price "Forty thousand?"

Callan leaned closer as he dropped his voice low "For you, I'll cut a deal, since it's such a small order." He had a feeling that it was important to be on the man's good side when the time came to flush out their quarry. Besides, it was not as if he had committed criminal activities while here in port. Everything had checked out legit so far on the Captain's part. "Five thousand off the total if you pay upfront."

Thravang did not hesitate to agree after he glanced at Captain Angfarod to see if he had any objections. The man had given a thumbs up as his way of saying that it was a good bargain. He fished out the number of credit chips from within his robes and handed them over to Callan. In return, Callan placed a small crate of the crystals nested in a soft synth material within and he also provided the bill of sale with Callan's alias name Alistair Fralenn already affixed to the form. Thravang slowly deciphered the form with some whispered help from Otheri before he finally signed his name in a flowing strange script. The good Captain also signed the form since he was responsible for the transportation of the goods. There was a beep on the Captain's personal datapad to indicate that he had gotten a copy of the bill of sale and it had the legal shipment stamp affixed to it as well. Thravang removed the crate and handed it to the Captain "Take you this back ship. Stow it safe and good. Many shops I see, I look. Maybe something find for mother and sisters."

The Captain grinned "A man has to please the women in his life. Else, they can make his life hell." He gave Thravang a broad wink as he left the shop with the crate in a secure position under his arm.

Thravang turned and inclined his head at Callan "Thank you I. Good business. Farewell.” There was still something bothering him about the man. Something to do with his senses and the Force. Then he was gone through the door out onto the street.

As soon as the mark was gone, Callan pulled out his personal datapad and typed his message to the others _He just left. He knows he is being watched. He does not feel like he is in danger, but be wary regardless. As Jonas has said, his accent was interesting to listen to. I can not pin it down. It is definitely not Imperial, though. It is far too heavy for that. He bought twenty stygium crystals for research purposes. Apparently, his people do not have access to many natural crystals on his world. Just what does he mean by "his people"? What is he? At this point it is far easier to say what he is not. He's not Sith, and he's not human. We all know how Sith would have behaved here, and his conduct has not been anything out of the ordinary for a stranger new to a planet and not familiar with the language. I fear that we are walking into the unknown now. I did not get a clear look at his visage, unfortunately. He gave me this look like I was bothering him in some way. He must be Force sensitive, he most likely sensed my presence. Also, I would like to note that the script he used to sign the papers with does not look like any modern language that the Jedi have studied. - Callan_

_Noted, Callan. Perhaps it is time that we take a more direct approach. We will have to carry it out carefully. It will do us no good if he feels threatened. He may not carry a lightsaber, but he is unknown to us so we can't plan on assumptions. Meet at our safe house to discuss our options. - Iakan_

Thravang paused as he peered down both sides of the street as he considered what he wanted to browse first. Nothing too fancy or luxurious for the women, they were more the practical sort. What could he get them that they didn't already have? Suddenly he snapped his fingers, he just had an idea. Question was if there was such a shop here? Glancing back towards the cantina, he thought he had seen a shop that just might do for his purpose. He turned and started strolling down the street. Once more he had that niggling sensation he was being watched. He finally realized what was bothering him. That watcher was trying to shield his presence in the Force, and he was sensing that. No, wait, that felt more like a she, not he, as he searched nearby in the Force. Trouble was, he couldn't get a clear read on that female watcher, but it was definitely there. It also meant that the "merchant" he had just dealt with for the crystals had a Force presence. He had a similar feeling, but Thravang didn't know how to describe it. Yet. This would be the first time that any of his people had an encounter with Force sensitive people that weren't their own. He decided it was prudent to just carry on with what he wanted to do, but he would remain on the watch himself. So he simply walked at his own pace as he performed visual inspections of the wares being displayed in the front windows of the various shops. He smiled as he paused in front of the shop he had in mind. It was a garment store, but he wasn't interested in buying actual articles of clothing. Nothing here would have fit his mother at any rate. He palmed open the door and passed within.

The hidden shadow paused and slipped behind an old Lhosan duster and dropped to the ground soundlessly. She pulled out her datapad and sent a message _He just went into Aeten Everyday and Fancy Apparel. Surely it can not be to purchase something for himself. There would be nothing in there to suit his taste, based on what I have seen of his garb. Definitely eccentric, that one.- Briandi_

_Oh, that reminds me, he did say something about perhaps finding something for his mother and sisters. Perhaps they are ... easier to fit? - Callan_

_How lovely, so he has family too? Frick! Great, one more thing to take into account. Can't have angry women looking to alter my handsome face. - Jonas_

_My dear, don't you _know_ that everyone has family? Even Jedi have family, of a sort, in the Order. Just not familial relationships. - Yrada_

_Ha! Yrada has a point - Iakan_

_Fine, fine, fine. I get the point. Let's focus on the matter at hand. - Jonas_

The shop proprietor paused in her handiwork as the door snicked open. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the visitor that had decided to grace her shop. She had been embroidering an intricate geometric border onto a black veda cloth tunic at the seams and the hems with silvery white thread. There was a dry chuckle as he noticed the gray haired woman at the counter since he had taken note of her face expression "Lady, not here am I tryclothes." He already had ran his eyes over the selection of garments available for sale, and he knew that there was nothing he would consider trying on. He had expected as much.

His assurance got a little laugh out of the woman, and she put down her needlework on the counter. She sized him up after snapping her mouth closed and sighed as she conceded the unspoken point before she tapped a finger on the counter "Is there something I could help you with, perhaps?" She gave him a warm and engaging smile. There had always been rumors of Sith Pureblood seen among the ships that visited from time to time, but he did not act like one, and he was not garbed as such. No Sith had ever been known to wear such odd garb, nor did they speak with such an accent with such horrible Basic.

"Aye, maybe. Sell you unsewn cloth?" Thravang asked as he leaned over the counter to study her work, "Good eyes you have. Good fingers. Fine work." He tapped her embroidery with a black clawed finger.

The woman brightened at his praise "Oh, thank you. It comes with many years of experience at this." She waved a hand to take in all of her store and its contents hanging from racks and on stands. "My family has been here for generations, and my work is known off world. Miners can make great walking advertisements since they work many different places." Thravang simply nodded since it made logical sense to him. She remembered his question "Oh! Yes, I do sell fabric by the bolt, but might I inquire as to why?"

Thravang smiled as he listened to the woman's chatter before she finally got round to answering his question. He did not mind her prattling since she was clearly a master seamstress. "My mother my sisters, need I something them." he paused before he continued dryly "Bolt cloth, you say, easier. Fittings no worry." He was confident that the woman could figure out why.

She did as she laughed "I can see that." She tapped her fingers on the counter as she considered the matter. If she sold the bolt, she would have immediate ready coin, but no future commissions out of the bargain. "Tell you what. What about this, I sell you the bolt that you want, but you get me their measurements and arrange for custom work." She cocked her head at him with a measuring look.

He crossed his arms and leaned against a wall as he took his time to consider her offer. He understood why she had made that offer. A business like hers would depend on repeat customers, commissions, and word of mouth. "Do you this all?" he asked idly as he waved at the entirety of her business with his right hand as he stroked his right cheek tendril with his left index finger.

"Oh, I have two daughters who help me with this. I do the fine fiddly things that take only experience. They're very good though, it'll just take time for them to be as good as I am," she told him.

"Experience need time," he answered "Family business this, then. Very good." He straightened up as he came off the wall as he gave her a decisive nod "Very well. Aye. Your terms, agree." He held up a finger “Do knot rope, I shall not. No lady, I am.”

She giggled at that "Of course not, that would be quite improper." She beckoned him over as she lifted up the door in the counter top at the very end of the other wall to create a gap through which he could pass into the workshop area of her store. She took him to the room where she kept the bolts of fabric. The front door opened again, and she excused herself to attend to the new customer as she left him to examine the stock.

A young man with black hair cut short had entered the shop. He wore a red jacket, black breeches with black boots and had a few tiny round cybernetic implants around his left eye. The seamstress noted that particular feature with a slightly raised eyebrow "Well, young man, what can I do for you?" She sized him up and smiled just slightly. He was nice and easy on her old eyes, that was for certain. He flushed as he realized what her appreciative gaze was for and hastily held his hands up in a warding motion "Um, no thank you. Not that way." He quickly scanned the shop interior and asked "Would you have happened to see an ... acquaintance of mine? Mysterious guy in two tone gray robes, hooded and commanding air to him with heavy accent and very bad Basic?"

"Of course, sugar, I sure have seen him, but why do you ask?" The seamstress asked quite curiously. Thravang hadn't said anything about meeting someone here, and she sure wasn't about to risk losing a possible new source of income. The red jacketed man rapidly did a re-think and decided on a change of tactics "I was just looking for him to pass a message on to him. Before he leaves, ask him to meet me at the cantina." He smiled "You know, for a friendly drink and chit chat." Then before the lady could make eyes at him again, he hastily slipped out. Once outside, he heaved a rather relieved sigh then signaled to the hidden shadow across the street that their mark was still inside and to keep watch. He then pointed in the direction of the cantina and started sauntering down the street that way. He hadn't seen that strange hooded man in the main room, so where was he? The seamstress wasn't worth a sabaac bet as an actress so she wasn't in any danger or distress. Perhaps he was in the older lady's workshop. He doubted that the mark was getting it on with the old lady, he hadn't shown any interested in the Twi'lek dancer who was considerably younger and far more pretty. So it had to be something more private, perhaps he was getting measured for a possible commission. Yes, that had to be it. He nodded sagely to himself just as he stepped inside the cantina only to be accosted by the same Twi'lek dancer that had hit on Thravang.

Meanwhile, Thravang had been studying the bolts in the little storage room he had been shown to and left alone. Now the charming older woman returned and he smiled, even though the woman couldn't see it because of his deep cowl. He gave her a nod "Things go well?" He returned to his perusal as he rubbed his bearded chin with his deep maroon hand. He had already raised an eyebrow over one bolt of a shadowy black cloth he had spotted. The cloth was made of such a fine material that it was translucent and glimmered like moonfire in the light cast by the hanging lamp. Garments made from it would leave precious little to the imagination. He had shaken his head even as he fingered the material. Smooth and slippery the touch was, and he knew that it would make a fine gift for his wife someday when he married. Just not _appropriate_ for his mother nor sisters. He pointed to the bolt of cloth and merely commented "What that? High price, must be."

She looked where he pointed and grinned at him as she answered "Oh yes it does cost a fair bit, as you've put it. Oh, the material is what we call zoosha cloth. Comes in many colors, you see, but that's what I have on hand. Got a girl in mind, have you?" She was quite surprised when he shook his head at the question.

"Nay. Someday in future." He then slid his finger to another bolt of cloth, this time a deep wine red brocade velvet with a pattern of trees and leaves in antique gold thread woven into the fabric. "Like this, I do. Price?"

She regarded his choice "You know this is heavy weight fabric, right?"

"Aye. Cold season long and hard. Keep warm, this."

She nodded "Very well, there hasn't been any demand for that fabric despite its lovely coloring and pattern, so I suppose I can let you have the whole bolt." She tapped a finger on her lips "Price... hmm." She reached for and pulled the bolt out of the rack and set it aside. "Are you done looking?"

He gave her stock a final look over and then nodded "Aye. Later, look more." He pointed at a few more bolts of fabric he wanted to examine later. “This, enough.”

She beckoned to him to follow as she hefted the bolt and carried it out from the workshop back to the counter top and set the rich warm material down. He went around the gap in the counter top and shut the door in place. Now he leaned over the counter and watched as she wrapped the entire bolt in a protective covering. Now she peered up at him with age faded blue eyes and a soft smile "Alright, now you handsome young man, let's settle the price, and don't forget our agreement."

He gave a simple nod "No fear. Keep word, I will. Need name your for their knowing." She nodded and held a hand out for his datapad. He pulled his out of his belt pouch. The datapad was rather small and fairly antiquated, but it still worked perfectly for his purposes "Lady, go you here." Together they discussed the wording of the agreement and both signed the agreement on his datapad. Once that was done, he made a few additional swipes on the datapad and suddenly the words became unreadable in a strange script. He looked quite satisfied and tucked his datapad back inside his belt pouch. "Price?"

They had a rather cordial haggle over the price until a bargain was struck, and he forked over the credits to her. She gave him a twinkling smile that dimpled her cheeks as she transferred the credits into her business account from the register. "Alright, that's it then. I must say, I'll be disappointed if I don't see you again soon."

He gave a wry chuckle and shrugged as to say it was beyond his control for now. "If duty say I return, I will. Now? Know I not. Other may come."

She slipped a hand inside his cowl to pat him on the cheek of his hood "That'll do, but I still want to see your face sometime. This old girl is full of curiosity about you, young man. Oh by the way, someone came by and said he wanted to meet you at the cantina. Friendly chat and drink, he said." She gave a girlish giggle "He was easy on the old eyes, that one. Red jacket, black pants, black boots. Dark hair, gray eyes." She paused then added "Oh! He's human too."

He arched an eyeridge at that "Thank you I must for message." Not again! He had just had his personal space invaded, his person touched. All without consent. Although, he found that he had not minded the old lady so much with his sense of outrage a mere simmer. Her touch had been far more …. _grandmotherly_. There had been nothing remotely sexual about the way she had touched him. Did all women on Aeten have no inhibitions about touching men unknown to them? She waved to him as he picked up the wrapped bolt and tucked it under his arm before striding out of the store. He had given her a final incline of his head in farewell "Lady, fare you well." then he was gone with the door snicking shut behind his retreating back.

 _He just left the store with a long package under his arms. Perhaps a bolt of something, judging by the length. Heading to the spaceport, I think, to drop it off. - Briandi._ Once again the shadow ghosted him.

He strode down the street until he spotted the anxious looking Captain pacing the street just outside the spaceport "Captain. Stow you this safe. This, take home." He handed the human the wrapped parcel "'Cloth pretty, give mother and sisters, I."

The Captain nodded "I'll make sure of it, my Lord."

There was a sense that Thravang now sported a frown hidden deep within his hood, and he stood there for a long heartbeat before he made his mind up. “Meeting, I have. Strange man, come looking, say meeting he with me. Sense I meeting must go. Precaution, I take must.” He walked up the ramp and entered the ship to speak with the other Tsis escorts inside.

There was a very short but intense argument in a strange language between the Tsis, before the older adults reluctantly had to agree that only Thravang could go to this meeting. There were a total of six escorts from the Tsis present, and only Thravang could speak Basic well enough to be actually understood, even as rudimentary as his was. Thravang slipped the eldest adult the pouch from within his robes that contained the monies they had gained for selling the ships. Despite his trade for the cloth and the crystals, there were still plenty of credits left to be added to the currency funds that his people held in reserve to deal with the outlanders that traded with them.

When Thravang emerged from the shadows of the ship's entry door, the Captain sighed "I think you're too right about that." He shook his head as he checked his blasters in his holsters "It bothers me that we don't know who. Not pirates, surely, or you would know." At those words, there was a shake of his hooded escort's head. The Captain resumed speaking "I best see to the crew, then prepare for trouble." He clapped Thravang's shoulder "Best luck to you in the cantina. At least, it's in a public place. Too many witnesses to silence."

There was a sour grunt of agreement from Thravang before he replied "Aye, there that. Thank you. Leave you it, I will." He turned to head north on the street once more towards the cantina after returning Otheri's shoulder clasp. Once again, he had been touched. The human Captain had meant well, though. It was becoming quite clear to him that perhaps it was only his people that had such a strong sense of propriety and that he would have to adapt to that or else spend his time feeling outraged.

 _Be on the alert, he comes. He was talking to the Captain, and he suspects trouble brewing. He had gone inside the ship, argued with more than one person, judging by the voices that I managed to overhear, then came back out. The argument was in some language strange to my ears. He is not the only one of his kind here. The Captain didn't look too worried, but who knows what our stranger is thinking? We might be dancing on thin ice._ Briandi hastily sent as she hurried to get ahead of him on the street so she could slip into the cantina and get into position. Just in case.

His nostrils flared as he had that niggling presence nagging his awareness again. This time, the presence wasn't too careful about shielding from him, and he was able to sense the presence moving up the street. He shook his head and silently clasped his right hand around the hilt of his warblade for a sense of reassurance. _Just what am I walking into?_ he whispered to himself in his mind. He reached out in the Force to get a better grasp on his surroundings and encountered three presences that shone blue to him in the cantina. Ah. The same blue that the hidden watcher and the crystal merchant had, come to think of it. He did not sense any intentional malice from them, only deep worry and intense uncertainty, and they did not feel evil to him. Beneath their worry and uncertainty, he sensed their … sense of serenity? That did not serve him in any form to feel reassured, however. Danger came in many forms, known and unknown.

He warily stepped into the cantina and scanned the interior carefully. His nostrils flared as he spotted the red jacketed man the seamstress had spoken of. Thravang looked him up and down and supposed that he was handsome to the old girl. Women and their desires. He had often heard his father lamenting about how strange women could be especially after a disagreement with his stepmother. That unbidden memory brought a wry smile to his lips for a moment. A fleeting moment that was all, then it was gone. He slowly made his way over to where the red jacketed man sat, step by step, his senses fully on alert and his muscles tense for action. His mysterious contact sat with another man who went hooded, and was clad in robes of pale and medium brown. He also carried a lightsaber clipped to his belt. The smugglers had shown him holos of people fighting with those weapons, so he had recognized it as being such. The hooded stranger was a Force warrior, then. It was enough to pique Thravang's curiosity, but not enough to quell the sense of unknown dubiety he was walking into. He did note that the red jacketed man had holstered guns and not a single weapon in his line of sight was drawn. He did not let his guard down, however, nor did he remove his hand off the hilt of his warblade he was grasping tightly. Here, he was only one man and bereft of any support from his kin and kith. The other escorts were too far away to render him timely assistance should he be in need of.

The second man glanced at Thravang's extremely wary approach and sighed heavily as he read Thravang's body language that spoke of heightened alert and distrust "We only seek answers to questions we have about you, stranger. At present, there is no danger to you, unless you bring it here yourself." With that said, he poured a cup of steaming hot tea from the kettle on the table and placed it in front of the spot left open at the table for Thravang. Another measuring glance from the pale brown hooded man "This tea is a traditional calming drink that I often drink when I am troubled."

Thravang paused in front of the table as he eyed the two men slowly. The red jacketed man held up his hands to show that he meant no harm as the man swallowed nervously. There was the sense that things could rapidly go south if this _stranger_ felt very threatened. After all he did have his hand on the hilt of his warblade which did look like a very ancient weapon design of the Sith. Patrons slowly started edging their way out of the main room away from the knot of tension that was Thravang. The hooded head turned to study them out of mere curiosity, and that only served to hasten their retreat from what they deemed a volatile situation. There was a long weary sigh as the stranger understood why the patrons were leaving before he gingerly took his seat on the other side of the table in front of the two men. He was not accustomed to this feeling that others thought he was a danger to them. It did not sit well with him. Outlanders could be so strange and silly. A long silence followed before he finally slipped his right hand off his warblade and placed his hands on the table when it became clear to him that the two men were not going to become violent with his person.

Thravang flexed his left hand slowly before dipping a finger in the tea and tasting it. There had been an intake of breath from the men when they had seen the black claws at the end of his fingers and surely they hadn't missed the fact that he only had four fingers, nor how such a deep maroon his skin was that it was nearly black. Satisfied that the tea was _just_ ordinary tea, Thravang picked up the mug and took a sip. Deep silver eyes regarded the men from within the hood in a guarded fashion. The brown robed man made a slight nod before he reached up to his own hood and pulled it back and downwards to reveal his face. He had green skin, dark green eyes that seemed serene, and dark brown hair in a simple ponytail hanging down his back.

"What you?" Thravang blurted the question out before he could stop himself.

"I could ask the same of you, traveler," came the placid answer. "I am Mirialan."

There was a long quiet moment as Thravang surveyed the man. His hood tilted this way and that way as he took a good long look at the Mirialan. Not wishing to be seen as discourteous, Thravang's left claws reached up and closed around the edge of his hood hem before his fingers slid the cowl down to his neck. In the sudden shocked quiet, Thravang strove to match the peaceful manner that the other man had spoken in as he sipped more of the brown tea. The red jacketed man nearly grabbed his blasters before a green hand stopped him from drawing "Theron." There was a firm shake of the Mirialan's head "There is no need to."

The green skinned man now steepled his fingers on top of the metal table as he regarded Thravang's now revealed face. Sith he seemed like, yet he was not. A puzzle indeed. He bore an extremely strong resemblance to the Sith Pureblood race, but... yet there were suggestions that he wasn't wholly of that race. He just didn't look that _human_. He looked even more alien than that race did. He tapped a finger "Pardon me, but are you Sith Pureblood?" he finally asked just to make certain.

"Sith Pureblood?" Sharp lines appeared on his heavily ridged forehead as Thravang grimaced at the question before shaking his head. His long cheek tendrils and developing beard tentacles jerked that way and this way before they settled after he stopped. "Tsis I am." His tone made his statement quite unequivocal.

The Mirialan raised an eyebrow before he pulled out a handheld holoprojector from a belt pouch and displayed a hologram of a Sith Pureblood male in boxer shorts. "This is a Sith Pureblood. You look rather much like one."

Thravang peered at the flickering blue figure and shook his head once more "That .. too .." He flicked a finger at Theron to indicate that he meant human. He pointed at the hologram again "Not Tsis."

The same Twi'lek woman who had hit on him came through the curtain at the back of the dancer platform, caught a glimpse of him, and her amethyst eyes widened "Oh my stars!" She sidled up to the table and Thravang was quick to hold up a hand and shook his head at her as his skin turned a shade more near to black. He was clearly discomforted now, and the Mirialan chuckled wryly. "Now, you're certainly handsome, make no mistake, you have such gorgeous eyes" she purred as she plunked down next to him. He quickly inched down the bench away from her until his back was squarely against the wall. The Twi'lek woman pointed at his eyes and asked "Tell me, Master Iakan, are Sith Purebloods known for silver eyes?" The Mirialan shook his head in wordless reply to that question. She ran a finger over the extensive ridging on his face "I don't think I've ever seen a Sith Pureblood like this, either." She cocked an eyebrow at the Mirialan who admitted "No, they are ... muted." Her hand flowed down his neck from his face to his broad shoulder "Hmm, his neck is heavily ridged too. So he can't be one." Then she proceeded to caress his right arm as she winked at him "If you ever get interested in some _action_ , gorgeous eyes, make sure to look me up."

Thravang dropped his tea cup at that point but managed to keep the rather lovely white porcelain cup from scattering on the table with the Force as the cup hovered an inch above the surface. The Mirialan cleared his throat just then "Yrada! You're flustering him, you shameless wench." He reached for the hovering drink and settled it on the table with a sharp glance at the Tsis sitting there like a cornered beast. A rather calm one if rather flustered, but still potentially dangerous. "You use the Force." It was a statement not a question. Thravang strove to rein in his sense of being outraged at being manhandled again by that … woman.

Thravang gave him a pointed glance "All Tsis." It felt like a silent challenge being issued by the young Tsis. He wanted to see what they were going to do.

The Mirialan raised an eyebrow but smiled gently as he rose to the challenge "So be it then. I am Jedi Master Iakan Zovarr and my companion is Agent Theron Shan and," here his smile became decidedly amused, "that is Agent Yrada Kella." At her introduction, Yrada made kissing noises at Thravang who buried his head in the palm of his left hand with his eyes squeezed shut. Once more his deep maroon skin turned a shade darker to indicate his embarrassment. Yrada continued to finger his right arm and He finally sat straight as his left hand left his face to point at Iakan " _Jidai_?"

"No, I said Jedi," Iakan corrected him but he lost some of that serenity in his tone as he became quite confounded. This stranger said he was Tsis, yet he looked Sith Pureblood. He did not behave like a Sith either. He was far too … civilized and well behaved to be a member of that Order.

" _Jidai_."

"Jedi. J e d i. Jedi. _"_ Iakan repeated with just an edge of annoyance to his voice. Yrada stifled a giggle. It wasn't often that someone got to the Jedi Master that way.

Thravang tapped a finger idly on the table as he watched a female figure materialize out of nowhere in his field of vision. It was the same blonde haired, green eyed woman that kept shadowing him. She was clad in two shades of brown, one darker and one lighter, and she wore a tunic, trews and an overtunic version of the robes that Iakan wore, but far more appropriate to sneaking around. He simply glanced at her and gave her a slight incline of his head "At last, watcher my herself show." He sipped his tea again as he waited to see her reaction.

She stared at him for a heartbeat, but didn't reach for her dual lightsaber "You knew." Once again, it was a statement and not a question.

"Aye. Shadow your I sense in Force." Thravang arched an eyeridge as he waggled a finger at her. Yrada had to smother another giggle at the scene of a Jedi being scolded "No... shadows hidden Tsis need home." There was a thread of warning in his voice. Back home, no one would have dared to spy on him. The Tsis had implicit trust in House Vadarisaz and that the ruling line needed no watching and would do right by their people to the best of their abilities.

He turned back to the Jedi Master watching him carefully " _Jidai. J i d a i. Jidai._ " He made it a point to copy the same tone that Iakan had used and watched as the Mirialan become just a bit shade more annoyed. Yrada stifled even more giggles and clapped a hand to her mouth before more could escape.

The Jedi Master's mouth worked for a moment before he finally regained his composure "Is that the best you can do, Tsis?" he inquired with just a note of sarcasm.

"Aye." Thravang crossed his arms across his chest casually. "Basic not my tongue mother." Then he inclined his head towards the Jedi Master "I am Thravang Isâhur Rath." Best not to mention his other titles to those outlander strangers, and best not to get very formal with people he knew nothing about. He had the sense it would not go over well with them.

Master Iakan startled at hearing the surname Rath. For some reason, that name was vaguely familiar to him. Where had he heard that name before? He would have to do some research in the archives. This Thravang had issues pronouncing Jedi, and he had a very strange accent, and Basic wasn't his native language. All very interesting notes.

Callan walked in just then. Thravang's head swiveled around as he recognized the man and gave another incline of his head. Callan surveyed the cantina now empty save for the little knot of people gathered at one table and the employees with courage enough not to have fled and asked "What happened to everyone else?" There was nothing to indicate violence. No blood stains, no bodies, no people screaming outside or cowering in fear.

"Too fearful, they were." Thravang shrugged his shoulders in a bemused manner as he peered at Iakan. “Sith Pureblood, I look too much.”

"All the Sith Purebloods we have seen so far have always been Sith, and yes they are very bad people." Iakan told him then frowned as a thought occurred to him. "Tell me, what do you know about current galactic events?"

Thravang poured himself a fresh cup of tea and studied the rippling brown liquid for a long pause before he answered the question. There had been a sense that he was mentally translating the question, just as he had for every question or comment. "Very little. Keep own business, we do. Smugglers trade welcome." His lips quirked at the corners of his lips "Pirates not welcome."

A new male voice entered the conversation "And that would explain the ships." It was the man who had identified himself as Tosinec to Thravang and Captain Angfarod. "So that's what you look like. Sith Pureblood but... " here Jonas gave Thravang a puzzled expression.

"Last time I say, am Tsis, NOT Sith Pureblood." Thravang now sounded exasperated as he reached a finger over to tap the holoprojector "Sith Pureblood too human."

"Perhaps, but you'll have to convince the Jedi Council of that," Master Iakan felt compelled to point out to Thravang. "All anyone will see when they look at you is Sith Pureblood."

"When was the last time your people had full contact with the galaxy?" Callan asked quietly.

A shrug and a long pause followed that question. Thravang's brow ridges ceased as he thought hard on how to answer that question. He had tried emphasizing that he wasn't Sith Pureblood, and that was not working. He kept getting mistook for whatever they were, and it was annoying him to no end since he did not have the proficiency in Basic to be clear, concise and precise.

Finally he ventured with an answer “Long long time ago. Many count of year. Bad thing happen, people leave old home. Move new home. Want peace and quiet. Not keep old ways. Keep old tongue, we do.”

Master Iakan absorbed Thravang's words and pressed a hand to his temple. What was he going to do with this young man and his people? They were not Jedi and they weren't Sith either. Thravang's nature, sensed through the Force, definitely was _not_ that of a Sith.

Knight Callan brightened at Thravang's explanation “Master Iakan, didn't the Jedi Archives speak of Sith Pureblood that weren't evil? Known records seem to have stopped at least a few centuries ago, though.”

Master Iakan looked at Callan for a moment, then smiled “Callan, I think you have hit on the heart of our mystery. Yes, that would make sense considering what Thravang has told us. His people must be a colony of Sith Purebloods that did not wish to serve the Empire, but they must have left long ago enough to have preserved considerably more of the original Sith blood in their lines.” He indicated Thravang's appearance with a nod.

Master Iakan returned his attention to Thravang and asked “Do your people serve the Sith Empire or Emperor?”

Thravang's reaction was instant once he had figured out the question “No. King we have. Empire, we not know, serve. Emperor, we not know, serve.” There was no doubt that he spoke the truth. It was there for all to sense in the Force.

It was only a few moments before Master Iakan reached a decision. He decided to err on the side of caution and used a Sith title to address the strange man sitting at the table with them, perhaps it would be considered more polite. _"Lord_ Thravang, I must apologize, but we _must_ take you before the Jedi Council. You will speak for your people before them. You are not a prisoner, but if you do not return with us, it will create difficulties for your people since you are near Republic space. The only Force users legally recognized in Republic territory are the Jedi." He paused to see if Thravang understood his words, both spoken and unspoken. And to see if he had objected to being called Lord Thravang.

Thravang used the time to think as he slowly emptied his tea cup. At long last he spoke with a frown on his face “Understand, I think. Wield the Force, I do. _Jidai_ , I am not. Threat my people considered because _Jidai_ they not. Aye?”

Master Iakan gravely nodded “You have summed it up rather tidily, Lord Thravang.” There had been no comment to his usage of the title, so he had been correct about his assumption that Thravang's people were originally from Imperial space. “That is why we must take you before our Council, so they can try to assure the Republic that your people are no threat. The Senate may have other ideas, however.”   
What Master Iakan did not say was that the Order would have to reassure itself. Under the tenets of the Order, Thravang's people would be considered gray and dangerous.

“Mean you Senate may not say my people …” Thravang hunted for a word he didn't know and finally settled for “not bad, not good... middle?”

Iakan thought about what Thravang would be trying to convey and asked “Are you asking that the Senate possibly would not acknowledge that your people wish to be neutral and left alone?”

“Aye,” Thravang answered tersely.  
  
Master Iakan spread his arms wide open “Lord Thravang, there is that distinct possibility. The Senate is made up of many different voices, and they often do not agree on matters.”

Thravang's frown deepened as he poured himself a third cup of the tea. They hadn't stopped him from pouring tea, so it seemed he was free to help himself to the tea as much as he wished, as long as he remained.

It looked like he needed to become the public face for his people so this Order and this Republic could be assured that his people meant no harm. He would have to serve as the unofficial ambassador. He brooded over that, he was not certain if he was up to that task. He thought about the other Tsis that had come as escorts and mentally grimaced. No, he would have to step up to that task. Out of the Tsis present on Aeten, he was the best choice, if barely. He had a better command of Basic compared to the others, and there was also the fact that he was from House Vadarisaz to consider. Plus his temperament and personality would be better suited. His youth might even be an asset.

“Become I _Jidai,_ then no problems, aye?”

"More or less," Master Iakan told him. "If you join the Order, we most assuredly can make sure that your people are left alone by the Republic, provided that they don't attempt to grab Republic territory."

He immediately waved that concern off with a shake of his head. "No. My people, war not interested. Peace and quiet we want." Thravang answered as he leaned forward towards the other men. He even had forgotten about Yrada who had the hots for him. His people simply wished to live in peace. "Tell me you about _Jidai._ Join I will not, if stupid reason. Serve I with care my King and people.”

"Lord Thravang, you can still serve your people this way. Through you, the Republic will come to see and understand your people and that your people are nothing like the Sith Pureblood of the Sith Order. Those Sith use the Force to commit great deeds of evil. I can show you what I mean, but we would have to travel to Tython since that is where the Jedi Order keeps their library archives," Master Iakan said earnestly.

Callan nodded and added "Lord Thravang," here he squirmed and fidgeted at addressing someone by the title Lord, "we Jedi serve the Light side of the Force. We strive to keep the peace and order in the Republic. We aid people in need. We guard the weak and the ill when there are no others to do so. We protect the children and the elders. We are servants in our fashion, like you with your people."

Briandi finally chipped in "And there is this to consider. The Sith kill those that are too old or too weak to join the Sith Order. They don't hesitate to kill children if it suits their whims. They don't hesitate to kill servants and military personnel if they make errors. They are a very unforgiving Order, and they only serve themselves, not their people. Fundamentally, they are the opposite of what the Jedi stand for, Lord Thravang. Think of what they might do to your people should the Sith Empire find them."

“Deal them like pirates, we will.” Thravang replied swiftly. He didn't think anyone would be prepared to take on an entirely Force sensitive people that were also their own sovereign authority. “Need still I see myself. Stranger I am, land strange, custom strange. Archives your, neutral?” He was slow and careful to pronounce the new word.

"Most assuredly. We Jedi are noted for being impartial, we often serve as diplomats for treaties and mediators for disputes," Master Iakan replied in a sober tone.

Thravang tapped his fingers on the table as he studied the two _Jidai_ not seated at the table before he finally pointed a finger at the twain “What you two?”

"I am Callan Yiadizias, and she is Briandi Thachask. We both trained as Consular shadows. We're the Jedi version of spy and assassin," the human male told him. Thravang had felt his eyeridge rise at the mention of assassin. He shook his head in distaste at the notion. His people had no need for assassins. Spies and agents, he understood, there were a need for those, they just weren't employed by the Tsis.

"As distasteful as the work may be at times, there has been need for it, and who better than Jedi who can be detached and not carry out the orders blindly," Master Iakan remarked. Thravang still made a face in distaste, even as he understood what Iakan had meant about not following orders blindly.

He returned to finger tapping on the table and sipping at his tea as he considered the matter at hand. As a member of House Vadarisaz, any decision he made here would have a great impact on the Tsis in the future, so he was going to have to thread carefully. One thing for certain, he knew that he was not going to inform them what he really was. It would be safer for the _Jidai_ to assume what they had.

Only when he had completely drained his cup did he speak once more. The others had been content to let him sit and contemplate things in silence. At least the Jedi did. The SIS agents kept exchanging looks. All eyes turned to him when he cleared his throat to grab their attention. He set aside his tea cup "Very well. Travel with you, I will. Speak to Council, I will. Decision I make then. Not before. That fair enough, aye?”

Master Iakan slowly nodded “It is fair enough.”

Thravang turned to scoot out of the booth and found himself blocked by Yrada who grinned at him. He held her off with a shake of his head “Consent you must ask. Consent I give not.”

Yrada mock pouted “Why not, Lord Thravang? It's just harmless fun. I can promise you that you won't be hurt. You'll have a really good time, I can promise that."

"My youth. Ten and six change of seasons I have."

"Lord Thravang, that's old enough. By our standards, you're an adult." Yrada protested. "Surely you want to have a roll in the bed sheets before you run off to join the Order?"

“Lady, my people not same. Need I four more changes of season. Then possible for what you say fun.” Thravang bluntly told her even as his skin flushed a darker tone. “Older child not adult, I am still.”

Now Yrada really did sulk. Such a fine looking specimen, and he wasn't even old enough by his people's standards to do the deed, but more than old enough by her standards.

Thravang patted her awkwardly, as if he wasn't accustomed to trying to comfort a stranger that he had denied consent to. He sensed that Yrada wasn't really a bad person, she just hadn't understood the customs about consent that his people abided by . "Later, speak we will again. Tell stories, laugh. Play games." He glanced at Master Iakan questioningly. He was not sure what the _Jidai_ would permit if he joined that Order.

"Only thing that the Order prohibits outright is emotional attachments," Master Iakan said quite dryly.

Callan chuckled in that shy fashion of his "And using the dark side, obviously."

"Fair enough. Yrada, that serve?" Thravang asked the agent. He really didn't want to leave her on such a bad note. She might make a good friend, and an agent would be very useful in certain situations.

"It'll do, handsome," Yrada finally stopped sulking and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek and tweaked the tendril hanging from that cheek before she slid off the bench and let Thravang out of the booth. With a saucy wink at him, she sauntered out of the cantina swinging her hips back and forth.

Thravang watched her leave and shook his head "Always Yrada like that?"

"She can be quite flirty," Master Iakan said judiciously. "Nevertheless, she is quite good at her work as an agent. You're just the first that she's failed to seduce in a long time now." The Jedi Master closed his eyes for a moment then said "It is time we should be going with our new charge." He glanced at Thravang.

Agents Shan and Balkar nodded " May the Force be with you, Master Iakan," before they slipped through the back door into the cantina kitchen, and presumably out the rear to return to Coruscant in their own shuttle with Yrada and make their reports to the SIS.

“Iakan Master, must send word my people,” Thravang told him. “Must say I journey with you, act what you say .. diplomat my people. Must tell my reasons.”

The Jedi Master nodded “Go then. We will accompany you to the spaceport and await you there.”

In the company of the _Jidai_ , Thravang left the cantina to return to the spaceport. Once there, he walked up to a surprised and greatly relieved Captain “All well now, I think.” He gestured to the three people “Travel I must with them. Council, I speak.”

Captain Otheri Angfarod and his crew had been shocked speechless to see Lord Thravang return with his hood down. He had forgotten to put it back up, and had gotten all sort of stares and looks from the local denizens as the group had passed them by on the main thoroughfare. There had been no outright hostility, but that was only because the _Jidai_ had accompanied him.

“Jedi! I didn't know there were Jedi here. Don't need to tell me why you have to go with them, my Lord.” Otheri did pause long enough to look for any evidence of fighting and saw that there were none “I see that there was no fighting.”

Thravang shook his head “Fight, foolish. No reason. Lot talking.”

He nodded to the Captain before he walked into the ship to speak with the other Tsis. This time, there were no raised voices, only tones of concern and worry. There was a lengthy discussion in the strange speech before there was agreement. Thravang composed a personal message to his father and outlined his new new mission and the reasons why he had undertaken the decision. Naturally he had composed it in the Tsis language.

_Dear Father_

_We have been finally revealed. The galaxy will become aware of us before we are ready for such a thing. I must travel and serve as envoy to learn of the Outlanders and their ways. I will travel with a group of people that serve the Force as we do. They will teach and train me so I can understand the galaxy at large. Then I will be able to instruct you and our people on how to best survive in the days to come. This I sense I must do, the Force has spoken. If you view this objectively, you will have to agree that I alone can serve our people in this matter. Do not blame our trading allies, this was inevitable. I shall miss all of you dearly. I will return when I am able to._

_Thravang_

He then gave his personal datapad to the same Tsis that he had turned the credits over to “Make sure that you deliver this to the King. Tell him that there is a message for his eyes alone. Give the wrapped package to the Consort, she will know what to do with it. Give the crate to the Lord Marshal, he'll know what to do with it.” He turned to his supervisor “Do not blame yourself. The Force meant for this to happen.” He then made his formal farewells to them, and stepped back outside.

Now Thravang turned to the Captain and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder “Now must I take leave you, Captain. Good knowing you, was. Give your holofrequency. Will keep touch.”

"But, Lord Thravang, how will you return home? Where are you going?" Otheri blurted out in his concern for the young Tsis male. The Captain had come to like him rather a great deal. He had been very affable, that one. The Captain knew in his heart that he wasn't Sith. He simply didn't act like one.

"Worry you too much. Find way I will home when time right. Trust Force I must.” Thravang awkwardly put an arm around the human's shoulders in a gesture meant to reassure him. "Where? Go with the _Jidai_ I must.” He indicated Master Iakan and the other two Jedi accompanying the Master. Thravang squeezed the Captain's shoulder with his hand "Will I be fine.”

Still frowning, the Captain scribbled down his holofrequency on a piece of flimsy that was laying on top of a crate near the _Unbroken Mistress_ , and handed it to him "I'll do my best to keep in touch with you, my Lord. So you'll be going to Tython then." The Captain paused and shook his head "Never thought I would encounter the Jedi myself. No offense meant, Master Jedi." He gave the Jedi Master and two Knights polite nods. He also gave Lord Thravang an opaque look; he hadn't missed how Thravang kept mispronouncing Jedi.

Thravang smiled warmly as he accepted the flimsy and tucked it into a pouch on his belt "Many thanks, Captain. Force serve you. Fare you well, we meet again one day." He did not have much to take with him. His personal datapad was going back home for security reasons. It would just be his clothing, armor and weapon that went with him.

The _Jidai_ beckoned to him to follow them to a shuttle that barely had enough room for all four especially now that Thravang had joined them. He finally wedged himself into a cramped corner on top of a crate. He watched from his vantage as Master Iakan sat down in the cockpit and started the takeoff procedures. As soon as they were cleared, the shuttle lifted off and soared into the sky. Thravang watched the sky diminish in distance until the shuttle was able to enter hyperspace, then the atmosphere of the planet Aeten II abruptly became star streaked. At that very moment, he felt his heart twist. He would miss his people and home, but it was necessary. He was looking forward to the adventure he was sure he would have. He was more than young enough to relish that very notion. He, Thravang Isâhur Rath, leaving home for the unknown. He was sure he was going to have fun. He also was wise enough to know that it would not be all fun. However, he would still get to do something that his people hadn't done.

At that point, Callan joined him and informed him that it would be three weeks before they reached Tython since it was in the Deep Core and travel was difficult in that sector of the galaxy. The _Jidai_ Knight showed him the galaxy map and traced the route for Thravang and it grew into a very stilted but still enjoyable discussion about the various planets on that route. Briandi joined the conversation as she handed him a book that Padawans were assigned to read, and it was a beginning treatise on the Jedi Code. She told him that she was going to help him read the book. So ended one phase of Thravang's life and a new phase began.

 


	2. Book 1 Chapter 2: Tython - The Gnarls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thravang arrives on Tython and finds things not to his expectations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten March 2019 to reflect background story development for Thravang.

 

29 Vidisija Issitahra Galezta 10 ATC

  
Thravang sat at a table next to one of the view windows that looked out onto space as the Thranta class corvette he had hitched a ride on approached Tython at sublight speed. In some ways he was going to miss the four years he had spent with Master Iakan and Knights Callan and Briandi. That time had been quite informative, to say the least. Rather enlightening on how the Jidai Order viewed the galaxy, their duties and their tenets. He didn't see issues with most of the Jidai teachings and tenets. _Mostly._ Naturally he had his own issues with the Code, but he wasn't about to discuss them with a Master. He let out a faintly dismissive snort at that notion. Master Iakan would have been more understanding after four years of knowing his “special project” student, but the others? Better zip his lips shut.

He returned his attention to the holobook in his hands where he continued his language lessons on Huttese. Fortunately he no longer needed lessons on Galactic Basic. He ignored the thick tension rising in the air in the room at his presence. He knew that everyone else was side eyeing him and talking about him in what they thought to be hushed tones. Not that it did them any good. He could hear them quite well, and he was wryly amused by that. Those silly humans often forgot that aliens didn't always have their species' limited hearing range. After four years, he had gotten used to being mistaken for a Sith Pureblood simply because they had no other comparisons and he had not seen a reason to disabuse them of that notion. Surely he would have gotten worse reactions, he would become more of an unknown. People didn't like unknowns.

There had been a few "duels" under the guise of spars in the weapon salle he often practiced his forms in, and the reactions from the losers were always predictable. He sighed heavily as he thought about those reactions as he murmured a tricky Huttese phrase as he read it aloud from his holobook. They always expected to be gloated over or worse. Instead, what had he done? Simply thanked them for the practice, and helped them up with a held out hand, then walked away. Why did they have to be so ... surprised? _Every sûdas time!_ He was careful not to let his facial expressions betray his thoughts. Everyone _expected_ a Jidai to be stoic. Never mind that he wasn't even a Knight yet. He would be so glad to disembark once he got close enough to be dropped off, he would have to be shuttled in.

Tython didn't have a proper spaceport. Security purposes. Some problems with the wildlife, he had been told when he had inquired about that. Pretty convenient excuse to fob off on people wanting to visit. Just then he heard his name called nervously and he glanced up from his datapad to see a naval officer standing in the doorway. The man wore a flight suit uniform, so he supposed it had to be the shuttle pilot. He stuffed his holobook into his haversack and swung that over his shoulder as he stood up. He simply nodded at the shuttle pilot with a calming smile and motioned for him to lead the way. In short order they were en route to the landing pad at a place called the Masters' Retreat.

The tall broad shouldered Tsis stepped off the shuttle ramp with a mostly silent sigh of relief. He had his haversack in his hand as he inclined his head at the pilot in a polite farewell accompanied by a smile that was just slightly too saccharine. He was happy to be finally off that corvette and its far too paranoid soldiers. Then he pivoted around smartly and started striding towards the large building a short distance away on the platform above the lake. He did pause a moment to inhale deeply of the air and liked what he scented. Fresh air! After one month spent on that miserable ship, he was glad of the fresh air and the gentle breeze that tickled his beard tentacles and his garnet hair that hung down his back. He hadn't bothered with the traditional Padawan hair braid, and Master Iakan had deemed it a battle not worth waging with his unusual student and it was not as if Thravang had favored some outrageous hairstyle. He used to have his hair braided, but he didn't have time to do it himself, nor did he have a servant to help with that particular task. So a more simple pulled back ponytail it was now.

His sure strides resumed as he glanced around as he climbed up the steep ramp leading away from the landing pad to the main platform surrounding the large building. The building was round, had three stories, and off to his right he could see another landing pad. The retreat seemed to be built back into the rock, and the platform was anchored with struts sunk into the rock beneath. The twin landing pads had a central support beam going down into the lake presumably to the floor. The ground level story was smaller and had columns supporting the much larger second level story. The third top story was much smaller and was mostly windows. Perhaps a view vantage to sit, gaze and mediate. The main color was in a soft brown, with dark brown accents. There was a large Jidai statue in the middle of the platform. He already had noticed a brown haired human male with pale skin in brown robes waiting for him at the top of the ramp but he did not quicken his steps. Thravang simply did not wish to seem too _eager_ to complete his studies. The patient Jidai Knight bid him welcome to Tython with a comment about how everyone at the temple was looking forward to meeting him as soon as he had set foot on the main platform, then the Knight went to comment on his combat skills as an expert duelist before he introduced himself as Knight Derrin Weller.

Thravang gave him a sidelong glance _(What? At what age do they teach Padawans combat? Do they expect their Padawans to stand around like docile herd animals waiting to be led to the butchering shed and be slaughtered for meat?)_ He mentally shook his head to clear the images he had dancing around in his mind. Of course he had been trained to fight from a young age. His homeworld was not pacified by a long shot, nor did his people wish to pacify their homeworld. To do so would be to leave things unbalanced. For peace to be appreciated, there must always be some element of danger. He demurred by saying that he had been training since he was young. After some more conversation with the Knight about getting assigned a new Master by the Council and being tested in ways that he couldn't imagine, Thravang followed him to a room just inside the building. Behind the Knight's back Thravang frowned. He thought he had been sent for more educational training, but clearly the other Jidai had different ideas. Well no matter, he would find ways to cope with the change in plans and succeed. He just had to. He stopped himself from snorting loudly just in time when Knight Weller told him that he would know himself by the time he finished his trials and departed Tython as a Jedi Knight. _(I already know myself, thank you very much. What am I, a young stripling of ten? In case you hadn't noticed, I have twenty years now, and reckoned a man by human measures)._

Their conversation was cut short by a sudden emergency signal beep from the Knight's holocom. Thravang looked on at the strange figure that flickered blue in the air above the holocom. Some alien clearly, but what species? He would have to consult his datapad that Master Iakan had given him. He listened as the Padawan shouted about the Flesh Raiders attacking the training grounds with blasters and to send help. He was very sorely tempted to pinch his nose with two fingers. Rather foolish to not have older Padawans combat trained. _(Ha! What are they going to do if Tython gets invaded? Run screaming around like a kameja with its head cut off? And to think the Jidai call themselves the defenders of the Republic.)_ He opted for rubbing his right cheek tendril with his left hand to mask his inner thoughts. He inquired about what the Flesh Raiders and was informed that they were native to Tython and that they were hostile beyond belief and intelligent enough to use rudimentary technology. _(Native, hmm? There was no record of such in the archives back home in the private family library. Master Iakan did say that the Jidai had departed Tython in the past and had just returned there some years ago.)_ In the next few moments, he found himself tasked by reporting to the training grounds to deal with the Flesh Raider invasion. At that point, he had his hands on his hips and feeling just a tad bit annoyed with the whole situation. Well, perhaps a bit more than just a tad. He settled for giving a curt short nod and managed to keep himself to a somewhat ... unruffled... walk on his way to locate and ride the speeder that the Knight spoke of. Ah, there it was on the other landing pad he had seen earlier. On the ride, he did pinch his nose with his fingers in annoyance and rolled his eyes. _(Sûdas idiots! Can't even defend their own training grounds because their sûdas Padawans don't know how to fight. How can they be so stupid? Dujikri, I was barely more than a toddler when I picked up a stick and started playing warrior games.)_

By the time his speeder landed, he had regained his composure and presented a veneer of calmness to the Jidai who had quickly waved him over. This Jidai had dark brown short hair, sideburns, and a scar on his left cheek, and a faint hint of stubble. The same boring old Jidai robes in shades of brown, as usual. What was wrong with blue and green? Those were colors that occurred naturally on Tython too. He quickly found out that the Jidai was Master Relnex and requested a full report before he set out on his new mission. Clearly, the invaders had arrived organized and ready. They even had some tactic planning since they were attempting to isolate groups of Padawans. He managed to refrain from muttering something under his breath as he learnt that there had been a group of Padawans out in the hills, not combat trained, and they had been ... lost. _(Lost? If they're out in the hills, they should have had a holocom with them. Sam'zi! No one back home ever went out into the wilds without a means of contact and informing a Warden.)_ He snatched the beacon from the Master and raced off without even bothering to hear the Master's farewell. This was not the time to waste what could be precious moments on niceties. He had to find that group quickly. He pulled his warblade from its protective sheath and tossed the padding away with his right hand at a receptacle he assumed to be meant for trash collection. He wouldn't need it anymore. This was _real_ fighting, not sparring.

  


*** Time has passed ***

  


Once he had killed a bunch of the oddly looking Flesh Raiders, he got a holocall from that Knight he had first met with. Unsurprisingly, Knight Weller had gotten himself shot in his left leg while rescuing some Padawans _(Deserved him right for not believing the report from that Padawan that the Flesh Raiders were armed. Never underestimate an enemy when eyewitnesses inform you of such)_. He simply nodded at the report that another Padawan had found a cave that the Flesh Raiders had been using to infiltrate the training grounds through. Of course, he was to go and check the cave out and find a way to seal the tunnel. He ended the holocall to resume his search for the lost group of Padawans. The cave could wait until then. He crossed over an ancient stone bridge and glanced sideways at what seemed to be a vintage holoterminal set off at the side of the bridge in its own little nook. He would have to poke at it later; now was not the time to satisfy his curiosity.

  


*** Some hours later ***

  


Thravang made his progression into the hills until he came to one final upward slope climb. He crested the slope to discover the missing Padawans, but one was down on the ground, injured, and nearby laid a Flesh Raider corpse in the verdant grass. Oh good, this group was not so helpless after all. Two humans and one Zabrak. The human male was clad in a rusty orange with dark brown accents, the Zabrak male was garbed in a dark brown, and the human female was dressed in some sort of ugly yellow with some dark brown accents. As he strode up to them, he overheard the ongoing conversation between the Padawans. One glance told him that yes, the injured human needed to be taken to the Jidai Temple for treatment. He was just too banged up to continue on. _(Continue on with what? Their training? It is too dangerous for them now. The sûdas idiots!)_ Just then the female human Padawan spotted him and turned to greet him with how lucky he was not to have been caught by the creatures.

"Lucky? You guys are the ones with training sabers," now he did pinch his nose and shook his head at them, "I'm fine, I've got a warblade to work with. They weren't able to stop me." He stood there with his hands on his hips as he studied them "You were lucky to have killed just one."

He listened as the male Zabrak told him that they had come seeking knowledge of the Code. He looked around and eyed them again as the human female continued the conversation _(What knowledge is to be had out here? I see nothing but grass, trees and rock outcroppings. Right now that is not my concern, though. Girl, you better get used to fighting. We are in a time of war. There'll be no peace for a while.)_ He cut her short by remarking that the Masters had wanted them out of harm's way since they had no combat training. He listened to the argument that broke out between the Padawans. He pinched his nose and started tapping one booted foot in mounting annoyance. Finally he made a slashing motion in the air with his left hand as he ended the argument for them "Enough! You three are not warriors. I AM calling an evac shuttle for you three."

He pointed a clawed finger at the female human "You're walking down a dark path that you are not prepared for. I would advise you to listen to the Zabrak here. He has the right idea." He punched the button on the beacon that would summon the evac shuttle then handed it off to the Zabrak male "You're the sensible one here. Make sure to keep the beacon with you. Help will arrive shortly." As he turned, he gave the female Padawan a withering glance "Don't let your judgment become clouded. You are far too untested to remain unconsumed." Then he headed off to find that cave and the tunnel within. As he walked, he hit his face a few times in the face with his palm as he rolled his eyes. They were far from finishing that particular trial, whatever it was. There was a time and place for revenge, but it had to be carefully planned and executed with all consequences given due consideration, and it could not be done in the heat of anger and the moment. That girl did not understand that, and was far too young. He had observed that the Padawans present were more like older children and less like teenagers about to become adults.

  


*** Some searching later ***

  


There was just something that bothered him about the cave, but he was not certain what. Ah well, there was only one way to find out. As usual. He touched his left hand to his right shoulder and murmured a phrase under his breath, his gaze steady, “ _Kûts arsia shuriji zûta"_ before he calmly strode into the growing dimness of the cave as the bright blue sky faded behind his footsteps leaving a trail in the tunnel floor dust. Once again, his nostrils flared in the semi darkness as he scented the Flesh Raiders ahead of him. He ignored the smell of the russet stone dust rising from the cave floor, that was harmless, but the Flesh Raiders were not. At intervals there were some sort of light source, and he wondered at them. Where did the technology to power those small lights come from? No time to dwell on that; he had more pressing concerns. The scent of the Flesh Raiders came to him as just plain wrong - rotten flesh with flies swarming about, scarlet blood left too long to curdle black in the sun, and other things best left unnamed. He winced as one final malodorous scent assaulted his nostrils, there was definitely a downside to having a very sharp sense of smell compared to humans. He resolutely filtered the smells out so he could continue his exploration of the cave undisturbed by the smell of the filthy things. Once again he had to kill the Flesh Raiders that he came across in the tunnel. He slew all that he saw, sparing none, for he had to guard his own back and flanks, and desired no unsavory surprise in his backside. As his boots crunched in the stone dust that wafted in the air after his steps, he crested the final slope in the path to spot the same Jidai Padawan that had urgently sent that emergency holocom call to Knight Weller, and standing next to that Padawan was trouble. Trouble's body language practically screamed for all to see, and his intentions were also coloring the Force around him darkly. Thravang shook his head as he drew near enough to hear the human male's words to the injured... Bith? Padawan. He would have to consult his datapad later about species in the Jidai Order. So many things to read and not enough time to do so.

_**"Stop struggling, Padawan. Your life was over the moment you set foot here."** _

_**"You are Jedi. Why would you kill me?"** _

_**"Because the order must evolve -- and you are weak."** _

Thravang listened to the conversation and mentally rolled his eyes. _(Sûdas moron! Of course he is no Jidai)._ He cut the conversation short by addressing the clearly fallen Jidai who had dark colored skin around his eyes.

"Whatever your problem is, ugly eye mask, I'm here to stop you, and step away from that Padawan, whoever you are, dark Jidai."

"Hmm.. You are... dangerous. You killed my soldiers."

_(This Callef is also a sûdas idiot. Of course, I am dangerous. I've had combat training, after all. Did I not come armed with a warblade for all to see? Not one of those pitiful training sabers. Training sabers are for the little children to practice with.)_

The injured Padawan murmured "He commands the Flesh Raiders attacking us."

To which the dark Jidai retorted "Not attacking -- cleansing. And we have only begun."

Thravang watched rather calmly as two Flesh Raiders emerged from the tunnel behind Callef. Two and no more. Well that was still all to the good, not too many to deal with at once. _(Cleansing? Dujikri! Sure, the Order had problems, but they were simply far too complex to just flush down the refresher commode like this sûdas idiot thought.)_ He mentally shook his head when the fallen Jidai raised his blue lightsaber to him with the two Flesh Raiders flanking Callef. Very well so be it. Combat it was to be, and he would fight honorably. He grimly dispatched the trio of enemies in short order - they had underestimated his combat abilities. Oh, make no mistake, he enjoyed the combat aspect. He simply didn't enjoy the taking of life and the spilling of blood, whatever color it may be. One never knew with aliens. He cleaned his warblade and was about to check on the injured Padawan when someone raced up the path to them.

"That was amazing, I thought we were dead!" the injured Padawan exclaimed.

"You two alright? What happened here?" the new arrival asked in a rush.

This new person had the garb of a Jidai Knight, but Thravang instantly sensed that this was no mere Knight. At the inane question of what had happened, Thravang very nearly did bury his face in his hand _(Sam’zi! The bodies are there for all to see, with their blood seeping into the stone dust and encrusting slowly into dark pools. How can he not see that?)_ Rather than reveal his ... less than ideal respect for this Jidai, Thravang let the other Padawan do the speaking.

_**"This Jedi attacked us, Master Orgus. He was sick... confused"** _

_**"Thank the Force that you're both safe. This man's no Jedi -- at least, not one of us."** _

Ah, so this new _ajiusona_ was a Master. Oh just how _lovely_. At least this Master did acknowledge that his fallen adversary was not a Jidai. Thravang took the time to debrief the Master on the situation that had arisen in the training grounds and what details he knew by remarking "He organized the attack on the training grounds. Called the Flesh Raiders his soldiers."

"I warned the Council these natives aren't mindless beasts. This is proof," Master Orgus answered. Then he turned to Thravang and studied him "You held off all these attackers by yourself with only a sword. Impressive."

Thravang merely demurred "I just followed my instincts. That is all."

A few moments later, the Master collapsed the wall opening in which the Flesh Raiders had entered the cave through in a rush of air as rocks tumbled to the floor amid a huge billowing of cave dust as pebbles sprayed through the air everywhere.

After arranging safe transport for the injured Padawan to a med center, Master Orgus turned to Thravang and told him that he was cleared to travel alone, and to report to the _Jidai_ Council at the Temple. Despite what Master Iakan had said four years ago, the Council had not laid eyes on Thravang. The Council had deemed it not necessary to meet with him once he had left Aeten II with Master Iakan. They had taken Master Iakan's word for Thravang, and deemed that good enough.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thravang keeps time in accordance to the calendar system of his people, not Galactic Time Standard. 
> 
> X Weekday, Week, Month 
> 
> Some of the dialogue and information is taken directly from the Jedi Knight story in SW:TOR


	3. Book 1 Chapter 3: Tython - Jedi Temple 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thravang goes to the Jedi Temple for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten Feb 2019 to reflect background story development for Thravang

 

30 Vidisija Issitahra Galezta 10 ATC

 

He finally spied the large building as he slowly came down the twisting beaten earth path from the gap in the low pass between towering slate grey cliffs. It certainly was large enough to be the Jidai Temple, and there could be no mistaking it for anything but. There were groups of older Padawans outside practicing against training dummies with their training sabers under the watchful eyes of their Jidai Knight instructors. His haversack hung over his right shoulder down his back, and his warblade had clearly seen some action during his travel through the pass from the Gnarls to the grounds of the Jidai Temple. The training grounds in the Gnarls might be now free of the Flesh Raiders, but the pass hadn't been. There had been Flesh Raider ambushers lurking in the deep shadows cast by the cliffs in the pass waiting for unwitting victims. Needless to say, they had been dealt with. He paused to kneel by a meandering swift brook and quickly washed his warblade clean of the encrusted dark crimson blood before he wiped it dry on the tall green grasses then sheathed it in the scabbard of tough black hide engraved with ancient Tsis symbols hanging from his waist. Then he looked around him as he sploshed his way across the little noisy brook and verdant grasses with scant regard for his boots until he struck the main path leading up to the Jidai Temple. It had taken him a day to reach the Jidai Temple simply because there had been so many fascinating half ruined statues and remnant walls of ruins to poke around in as he went through the pass. Surely they would not mind that he took a bit of time to satisfy his curiosity. After all, it was not as if that Master had told him to report _right away_ and he had not lingered in the Gnarls any longer than necessary. So he hadn't disobeyed the summons, as far as he was concerned, since he was here now at the Jidai Temple.

As he climbed the stairs to the main entry, he could feel eyes lingering on him. Here he was, a stranger in a strange land, and considered to be a representative of the Jidai's ancient enemies. Never mind that he wasn't actually Sith. He _looked like_ a Sith Pureblood, and for a great many people, that was enough to judge him by. He merely ignored the stares since there were no outright malice in what he sensed through the Force. The best thing he could do was simply to carry on with his normal business. The more they got to observe him, the more they would cease to see him as “Sith”. He mentally rolled his eyes as he passed through the main entry. He paused just before he was about to round a curve in the passageway. His holocom was chiming. He pulled it out of his belt pouch and stared at it for a heartbeat _(How odd. There's no reason for anyone to call me... is there?)_ before he hit the answer button with a clawed finger. A figure flickered to life bathed in blue, and he was genuinely surprised to see who it was. Grandmaster Satele Shan. Oh my. What had he done to merit such a call?

_**"Padawan -- I'm Satele Shan, leader of the Jedi Council. I'd like to speak privately with you before we meet with the others. Come to my mediation room in the temple. We'll talk there."** _

All he could do was acquiesce to her request with a nod, and the call ended just like that. Why did she wish to see him privately? Surely not for an illicit romp. At the very notion of doing such a thing, he started chuckling quietly under his breath. Very amusing, indeed. He politely inquired about directions from one of the Padawans and was promptly given precise directions.

With a gracious nod of thanks, he followed the directions to her meditation room down two flights of stairs in a passageway and entered after a pause and knock on the door to see the Grandmaster in a classical Jidai meditating pose. _(Did she spend every spare moment in that pose? It had only been a short while since she had called me to this room. I certainly hope not. Either she has too much time to kill meditating, or there are.... issues that she does not confide to anyone else.)_ As she rose to greet him, he made sure his face was utterly devoid of the amusement he had been feeling earlier. He had no wish to tell her _why_ he had been chuckling.

He quietly took that time to study her. He had the sense that she was older than she looked in years. Her hair was still a dark brown done up in a few braided tails hanging down from her head with silver ornaments on the braids. Two were in front of her ears, the rest of her hanging braids were in the back. She also wore an interesting set of armor. She did not seem to mind that she showed skin in that armour of hers, although he did note that it had to be practical for her since all that synleather was skintight to permit maximum movement in combat _(Not entirely modest, is she?)._ He also noted that she had a dualsaber hanging down her left leg clipped at her belt. Perhaps as Grandmaster of the Order, she was entitled to dress differently from the rest of the Council. Until now, he hadn't seen much in the way of variations on Jidai robes and armour. Perhaps it was also a secret way of testing young Padawans to see how disciplined they were. He dismissed it as being mostly irrelevant since it didn't affect him.

As he stood at casual parade rest in front of her, she spoke "Welcome, Padawan. The temple is already buzzing with accounts of your heroism in the training grounds. Master Orgus told me you battled Flesh Raiders -- and a Force user armed with a lightsaber."

_(There are Force users everywhere here. Nothing unique about that. What is there to be surprised about? Dujikri!)_

She reached out a hand to him "That must have been a disturbing confrontation. Are you alright?" He firmly kept his face blank and his eyes centered squarely on her face.

He managed to keep from snorting as he replied "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," as he made a hand gesture as he pointed a finger at her.

She frowned at him "I admire your composure, but have you truly searched your feelings about this? Taking a life affects the Living Force -- and the one who does the killing. This is why Jedi enter battles calmly, with reason. Emotions like fear and anger lead to the dark side."

_(By the black blood of Adas! This is starting to feel like a lecture. I only did what I had to do. Nothing more, nothing less. Is she lecturing me because their Padawans are that weak and become overwrought if they had to kill someone to defend someone else? Or is she lecturing me because all she sees is a Sith Pureblood? Never mind that I am not one.)_

He simply stared at her levelly "I can control my feelings, no matter what I am facing." Tsis Force training involved being able to handle emotions in a more rational manner, instead of entirely repressing emotions. He had not been able to complete that training before his trip to Aeten II, however. Training with the Jidai for four years had enabled him to feel more calm during combat, but he did not understand why emotions were so heavily frowned on. Bottling up emotions did not lead to a healthy psyche. Even a village idiot understood that.

Apparently the Grandmaster was not satisfied with his answer as she told him "As the Jedi Code teaches us, 'There is no emotion, there is peace.' Remember those words when times are darkest."

_(What peace? There is no peace if all emotion is suppressed to the point that you are unable to handle them properly. I wager that is one reason why many Jidai have fallen and swore allegiance to the Sith Order. They are not balanced within themselves.)_

Of course, he did not speak aloud his thoughts. Now was not the time to get into a quarrel with the Grandmaster of the Jidai Order. Doing so would be surely the quickest way to get booted out of the Order, he warranted.

She continued in that soft deep firm voice of hers "And take this. The Code is a source of strength, but some backup never hurts. I'll see you soon in the Council chambers." She smiled at him as she handed him a piece of blue quartz shaped in the form of a cube that was large enough to be held. On the cube sides the Jidai Code was engraved in white flowing script letters. He placed the cube in one of his belt pouches with a grave nod of thanks. He had the sense that this was not a gift given freely to just any Padawan.

_(I never would use a mantra as a source of strength. Strength must be drawn from and cultivated within. Are the Jidai truly that weak? Dujikri!)_

She sank back onto the floor in a kneeling position, and he took it as a dismissal. He turned and departed her mediation room.

He went looking for the mess hall. Surely there had to be one where Jidai ate their meals while on the Temple grounds. Once again, he had to ask a Padawan for directions. As expected, the fare was rather basic. Bread, cheese, fruit, and some sort of root soup with vegetables. He eyed the food dubiously _(Sûdas! They call this filling and nutritious? By Tsis standards, this definitely isn't. There isn't even any meat.)_ After a few minutes of reluctantly prodding the floating vegetables in his soup with the spoon, he resigned himself to the inevitable, and slowly ate his meal. While in the mess hall, a beige skinned male Zabrak Jidai Master intercepted him and escorted him up to a dormitory wing reserved for male Padawans, and he was shown to a large room that had an empty bed, and there was five other beds already occupied. Thravang claimed the empty bed by virtue of settling his rucksack on top of the mattress, and left for the library. He had found the library to be rather interesting with databanks everywhere he looked, and small platforms that displayed floating holocrons. There were tables with chairs surrounding them, but he wasn't interested in sitting at one of them. He downloaded some books he found to be interesting onto his datapad and headed back to the dormitory room. He stripped and settled himself in bed after he stowed away his things in the chest at the end of the bed. He didn't need to report for combat lessons yet, but he did want to get some reading in before he had to sleep.

Night fell, and the other Padawans assigned to the dorm room went to bed as well. One of the other Padawans had been a golden haired Mirialan that favored long flowing locks, and he had dark green skin with his face done up in a black diamond and stripe tattoo pattern. His eyes also matched the exact shade of his hair. He had paused by Thravang's bed and given the "Sith Pureblood" a long appraising look before he gave a nod and a smile before heading for his own. Thravang groaned as he turned and tossed in his bed and could not stop the silent but deadly smell of his indigestion from wafting all over the room. By dawn, there was quite a lovely smell of rotten eggs lingering in the room. The other Padawans had been quick to flee the room as soon as they had awakened.

 

*** The following day ***

 

31 Nekircaja Urnishra Galezta 10 ATC

 

He grumpily knuckled his eyes as he sat at a table by himself as he sourly surveyed his breakfast. More of the same from yesterday's evening meal. Did the menu ever change? Once again he peevishly consumed the meal as he considered his options. Clearly, the Jidai thought he could consume a human diet. Problem was, such a diet did not suit his biology. So who did he speak to about his dietary requirements? He certainly did not have time to do so now, he had to make himself presentable for the Jidai Council meeting. He did snag for himself a cup of caf and left to take a hot shower in the communal refresher that he shared with the other Padawans. He left the refresher sorely in need of a good airing out once he was finished using that facility.

At the appointed time, he climbed the curving stairway to the second floor of the Jidai Temple and turned to face the great doors that led to the Council meeting chamber as soon as his booted feet hit the landing. He strode up to the doors, paused, then pushed them open with one four fingered hand. He took a deep breath to center himself then entered the short hallway. Statues of stylized Jidai lined the hallway, and there was a border of red stone inlaid with a golden design lining the central white stone tiles of the hallway floor. He approached the main chamber, and he spotted several people sitting in those blue padded chairs that flanked a large silvered table with a golden brown trim that had a large holoterminal in the middle. He silently counted the number of chairs; there were only seven. Only seven? There should have been at least three more chairs according to what Master Iakan had told him, and three of those seven chairs were unoccupied. He spotted the Master that had spoken to him in that cave sitting in one _(So he is on the Council? Hmm, interesting)._ The other person there actually sitting was maybe a Togruta, he thought. He slowed to a stop in front of the table and listened to the conversation. Apparently this Callef he had killed had never received any form of Jidai training. The Togruta had searched the Temple archives for records, and there had been none to be found. He noted that there was a human woman standing next to the sitting Togruta Master. Her Padawan, perhaps.

_**"Then the Sith have found us. Shouldn't we get ready for them?"** _

Apparently the Jidai Council were much more informal than the Royal Council meetings back home. Granted, speakers had the permission to speak freely there, but there was still a set of protocol to be followed.

_**"Calm yourself, Padawan. We can't be certain of anything, yet."** _

**_"But we've all sensed a growing darkness -- perhaps it's finally revealed itself."_**

_(What growing darkness? There's darkness all over Tython.)_ Then he mentally shook his head once more _(Of course, I've been here less than what they call a week in that Galactic Time Standard calendar of theirs. Hardly enough time to know if something's off-kilter)_.

To head off what he sensed to be a rather heated discussion brewing, Thravang gave his two credits' worth "The enemy I faced wanted to destroy the Jidai Order. Can't get much darker than that," as he gestured with one hand at the Council.

The female Padawan actually shot him a smile as she remarked "Well, that brightened up the room...." Thravang had to smother a smile at that. He decided he liked her sense of humor. He had to restrain the urge to tap his foot as he listened to the cave tunnel Master introducing him to the rest of the Council _(Must be this Master Orgus that the Grandmaster mentioned)_. Patience never had been one of his best fortes. To keep his mind busy, he mentally began reviewing his Huttese lessons. He found out that the "extremely vocal" Padawan was named Kira, and he also learned the name of her Togruta Master _(Extremely vocal? Kira must not be one to keep her mouth shut then. I don't think they like their Padawans too talkative. Or perhaps she is too questioning?)_ He simply gave each Master a polite inclination of his head as they were introduced to him. Just then the Grandmaster arrived to the meeting with a comment about the temple's safety being unexpectedly threatened and how the Flesh Raiders had been primitive until today _(Sûdas! Never discount a threat just because they're not technologically adept. They have the numbers, and there's only so many of you Jidai. Ajiusona!)_ He dearly wished he could scold her for being late to the meeting; he had noticed her absence when he arrived. His father never approved of tardiness to his own Council meetings. Instead, he frowned as he addressed the Grandmaster "I think you've been misinformed."

_**"We clearly underestimated the natives. The man leading the Flesh Raiders probably wasn't acting alone."** _

_**"Much of Tython remains unexplored, and we have few resources to spare."** _

Thravang had felt a thrill race through his body at hearing that Tython had remained largely unexplored. Terrific, maybe when he got to take a vacation or had downtime granted to him, he could return to Tython and just go exploring. Only the Force knew what he could discover or stumble across.

**"** _**I'll handle it -- with the help of my new Padawan."** _

_**"Orgus, you haven't taken a Padawan since Coruscant."** _

_**"The Force is strong in him. Stronger than I've seen in decades."** _

_**"I can think of no finer Master to complete this Padawan's training."** _

Thravang felt flattered at that, but he was careful not to preen. Of course, it made sense for him to be that strong in the Force. All Tsis possessed strength in the Force since the Force was so integral to the species. It was just a matter of fact for Thravang. Grandmaster Satele Shan agreed with Master Orgus Din on the choice of his new Padawan with a smile on her face and approval in her voice. Just like that, Thravang found himself with an official Master to complete his trials with. A Master from the Jidai Council, no less. He was undecided if he should be concerned or flattered about having such a prestigious Master.

"It will be a privilege, and I'll complete my final trials once we've dealt with the Flesh Raiders." Thravang said after a moment of silence when the Council looked at him for his reaction.

_**"Don't get too excited. You're in for some hard work. You'll find supplies in my chambers downstairs. Go equip yourself. I'll meet you there."** _

He gave a half bow with his left hand on his right shoulder and departed the Jidai Council chambers. He set out to find his new Master's chambers and after wandering through the Temple, he finally located the suite of rooms that his Master kept. He had found what passed for a cantina in the Temple. Doubtless the drinks they served were heavily watered down. He had also found several classrooms and a room where some Jidai were trying to channel the light side into a Sith held in stasis. He frowned as he recalled that, surely that was not the best way to try to turn a Sith to the light side. He shook his head over that as he looked around in the main room. There was a grey metallic table with a bunch of chairs that looked slightly comfortable to sit in since they had open backs and the seats had red pads. There were the requisite stylized Jidai statues present as well. There were some databanks most likely linked to the Temple archives embedded into a wall. Then he spotted a storage locker, so he went to rummage in that one.

He was still looking through the supplies when he sensed the arrival of his Master and he hid a broad smile as Master Orgus Din complained about the Council meetings taking so long that he would die of old age before his colleagues ran out of words. Thravang turned and gave him a look then said that he would rather do something about problems than discuss them. Master Din nodded then replied that sometimes talking was necessary to solve some problems, then told him that the situation had come at him fast and that he was braving dangers that not many Jidai faced _(Oh, is that so? Is that why so many Jidai fell defending the old Temple on Coruscant? Because they couldn't handle danger and didn't know how to fight? Sûdas idiots! As the Sith undoubtedly would say, they were weak because they didn't have the skills and abilities.)_

Master Din then said he would get to ask a question, so Thravang thought about what he would ask, and decided to ask why he had been chosen as Padawan when Master Orgus Din haven't had one in years. He got a rather interesting answer about learning to trust his instincts as a Jidai. So the moment they had met in that cave, the Master had known that Thravang was to become his Padawan but did not know why or for what purpose, only that the Force had informed him so.

Thravang answered that he would be looking forward to learn from Master Din, and the Master replied that he expected Thravang to teach him some things in turn, and that it was time to get to work. He learned about the village of Twi'lek pilgrims, and that it was an illegal settlement. The Republic had asked the Jidai to deny them aid, which he promptly said that it was wrong of the Republic to tell the Jidai what to do. Master Din said that the Jidai had a duty to serve the Republic.

Thravang still disagreed with that _(What will they do if the Republic asks them to do something that goes against their teachings? Hypocrites!)_ but did not press the issue. Now was not the time to get into a long drawn out argument with his new Master. Especially one who also had a seat on the Council.

Master Orgus Din had said that their village was in the mountains, so he stopped in the library to find and locate a map of the explored regions of Tython. He downloaded that to his datapad for further reference, and sauntered down the stairs and out of the Temple. One of the other Padawans gave him a dark look and nearly sneered "On your way off Tython, are you?" Clearly she had mistaken him for Sith again, and had erroneously assumed that he had been dismissed from the Order since he had his equipment with him.

Thravang simply raised an arched eye ridge at her "You assume too much, Padawan. No, I'm headed out on a mission that Master Orgus Din assigned me as his new Padawan." Let the _ajiusona_ chew on that. He went down to the main path and looked for the path that would take him into the mountains somewhat easterly of the Jidai Temple grounds.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the story dialogue are directly taken from the Jedi Knight story on SW:TOR


	4. Book 1 Chapter 4: Tython - Kalikori Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thravang goes to the Twi'lek Pilgrims village for the first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten Feb 2019 to reflect background story development for Thravang

 

32 Kitija Urnishra Galezta 10 ATC

 

After a day spent striding the dusty path that wound its way through the foothills into the mountains, he came to a valley that sat nestled deeply with jagged mountain peaks straddling all sides and there were only two paths that led in and out of the village. The village had thick walls erected as protection, and Twi'leks of varying colors and patterns bustled around on their daily errands and tasks.

Earlier in the day during his trek, he had passed over a bridge sitting over a brook that flowed into a large pond, and he had glanced off to the side. There in the rippling water, he had spotted two _Jidai_ Knights standing waist deep swinging their lightsabers, green and blue, at each other. He was rather dubious about the effectiveness of that particular training tactic. He never would fight in water if he could help it. His species had a deep natural aversion to water. He would rather throw his saber at his opponent and force leap to the shore where he would have far more freedom and not get boggled down.

He also had to “strategically retreat” from a startled shaggy haired uxibeast cow who had charged him. She had viewed him as a threat to her calf for some reason only the cow had determined. He had no _sûdas_ idea why. One moment he had just been marching along on the path that wound through a meadow a _supposedly safe_ distance away from a herd of uxibeasts and the next moment he had been running for safety and had force leapt his way into a high tree that stood lone sentinel at one edge of the meadow. Sure he could have drawn his ancient Tsis warblade and stood his ground, but why? There was not much point in slaying her and he had not been in the mood for fresh meat. He would have rather hunted a bull instead had he the choice. He climbed down only after the cow gave up at trying to reach him as she snorted and pawed at the ground next to the tree in frustration and had skirted the meadow until he was considerably well away.

He walked through the village, self conscious of all the eyes on him. He sensed that he was spared a more _warm_ welcome by the virtue of his Jidai apparel. He was looking around while he heard a voice call out to him “Come over here, Jedi, and spare a moment for a humble servant of the Matriarch. I promise, your other dealings will wait.”

He directed a glance in the direction of her voice and saw a green skinned Twi'lek woman standing next to a stack of boxes with rounded lids in front of the Matriarch's abode. She had darker green striping on her lekku and her eyes were a shade of soft bluish purple, and her cheeks were reddened, and so were her lips. The older woman, for she had some wrinkles on her face, wore a dark grey overtunic, a pale gray shirt, medium gray breeches, dark grey boots and a black belt.

She beckoned him over with a gesture of her hand “My name is Vederiat Ayon. I minister to the bodies and spirits of the villagers... and I have a request.” Oh, so she had a request for him, did she? Very well, he would find out what it was since he was representing the _Jidai_ in the village. He approached her at a sedate pace, and politely inclined his head at her to indicate his attention.

“I speak of the Flesh Raiders. Of late, we've seen them growing stronger – and I know why.”

Now she had his total undivided attention.

“The Flesh Raiders have been experimenting – concocting an elixir that makes them ravenous. The ones who drink it go mad. Their lips froth, and they pounce like starving animals. It's black medicine – primitive and evil.”

Thravang ran his fingers across his heavily tentacled beard to show that he was thinking. After a moment of due consideration, he inquired with a frown on his brow “How could Flesh Raiders learn to do something like that?” It smacked of the dark side of the Force to him. This Callef, he remembered, had been trained, but not as a Jidai. He did not know who had trained Callef yet.

The woman shook her head and answered “I have no idea. Such wickedness is beyond our comprehension.”

On that score, he had to agree with her privately. He personally had no experience with such wickedness, but the legends among the Tsis spoke of such many tales from the ancient days of their ancestors on Korriban. Regardless, this was ill tidings, indeed, and surely the _Jidai_ would be next, if the Flesh Raiders managed to eliminate the settlers altogether. _(The_ _sûdas_ _fools! The Jidai can be such_ _sûdas_ _idiots. They keep missing the bigger picture far too often)._

She continued as she placed her hands on her hips with her arms akimbo “We lack the numbers to attack the Flesh Raiders directly, and not even the Jedi could wipe the monsters from this world. However, with our warriors' help, the Jedi could reach the Flesh Raider caves and destroy their vats of elixir.” He had to agree with her assessment that not even the _Jidai_ could exterminate the Flesh Raiders from Tython. For one thing, it went against their teachings, and secondly, it would do the _Jidai_ good to have something to keep them on their toes and stay vigilant. It also would provide a good combat trial for their Padawans as well if they were so inclined. Look at him, for instance. Newly arrived, he was, and already in the thick of fighting the Flesh Raiders. Besides, who knew how many Flesh Raiders there truly were? Master Satele had said in the Council meeting yesterday that the Order hadn't had the resources to explore Tython.

There was durasteel in his voice as he responded to her entreating look “Then count me in.” He had no qualms about agreeing to her request that he enter the caves and destroy the elixir. _(The poor villagers. They must be so desperate for help that they don't even cavil at seeing a Tsis who reminds them too much of a Sith Pureblood. Surely they know what a Sith Pureblood looks like, and they aren't even fazed much by my presence. The sûdas Jidai were wrong to deny them aid.)_

“Thank you for this. Odumis Mer knows where the vats are hidden. He is our guard captain. Talk to him to learn the Raiders' secrets.”

“Thank you, Vederiat,” he replied politely with an incline of his head. “I shall certainly do so.”

He went off to meet the Matriarch and discussed the village's current plight with her and her advisers.

 

_**“Sabotage would thin the Flesh Raider numbers and eliminate their technological advantage.”** _

_**“If you brought that technology here, we could defend ourselves with those weapons.”** _

_**“This village is vulnerable to attack. You need better defenses.”** _

_**“This debate is pointless unless you can get inside that cave. You'll need one of the leaders' access keys.”** _

_**“Find the Flesh Raider technology and do what you think is best. Good luck, Master Jedi.”** _

 

He departed the meeting with the Matriarch and her advisers and several of the other villagers hailed him with concerns of their own. He stopped to hear them out and promised the villagers that he would look into their concerns for them. Then he asked after the Guard Captain, and was pointed in the man's direction. He picked his way through the village to the Twi'lek.

The man was blue skinned, and had pale gray markings on his lekku, and his eyes were also a pale blue. Like most of the Twi'leks, he was dressed in shades of grey. The man held his hands out in a gesture “Jedi. I know what you've been doing. Vederiat sent you to speak with me. She told you about the Flesh Raider elixir, didn't she? How it makes the Flesh Raiders strong?”

Thravang merely raised an eyeridge at him and remained silent as the young Padawan waited for the fool to keep blowing hot air out of his mouth. He had the sense that the Guard Captain and the priestess did not see eye to eye on this. The man's next words confirmed his suspicions.

“Vederiat's been looking for a way to destroy the elixir – but she's making a terrible mistake. We shouldn't destroy the elixir. We need it! And I'll pay you well if you bring it to me.”

Clearly, the fool did not care about what the elixir would do to the village guards under his command, only the results. Very short sighted, indeed _(Sam'zi! Did he not hear how it made them froth at the lips? Did he not hear how it created a foul appetite? Did he not realize that the elixir would only corrupt the ones under his command? The sûdas fool. At least it's easy to refuse.)_

Since there clearly were other Twi'leks listening in and looking at them, Thravang queried in quite the calm tone, completely at odds with his inner thoughts, “What exactly are your intentions?” He wished to make it clear to the other villagers what their Guard Captain intended to do with the elixir.

“The elixir will make our guardsmen strong. Yes, it will change them, but it will work. We can defend our village and destroy our foes,” Odumis told him with determination in his voice. “Imagine – if the elixir can make a Flesh Raider powerful, what would it do for a Pilgrim warrior? Bring it to me, and you will be rewarded. Praised!”

Thravang promptly shook his head “You should know that it is useless to bribe a _Jidai_ , Odumis. Did you not hear what Vederiat had to say about the effects of that elixir on the Flesh Raiders?” He perfectly well knew that the man knew. His voice held the note of finality to it “No, I will not help you feed the elixir to the Pilgrims.”

“Fine. Obey the orders of an old woman and destroy the elixir... but Pilgrim blood is on your hands,” the Twi'lek guard captain bitterly said, “The elixir is in the caves beyond our village. I doubt Jedi can even come close to the vats.”

_(Sûdas idiot! Better that than a village full of corrupted guards lost to darkness. Corruption by the dark side is often paved with well meant intentions without failing to consider the consequences.)_

“The corruption of the Pilgrims most assuredly will NOT be on my hands,” Thravang said harshly. “That, I will not permit.”

 

*** Some time later ***

 

He had found the caves that the Pilgrims had spoken of. They most certainly did smell dank and foul. Clearly, the Flesh Raiders had no hygiene habits to speak of either, so he had to watch where he stepped on the cold dusty stone floor of the tunnel he now traversed. He came across little vats of a black liquid that bubbled on the surface, and glowed red to his vision. They definitely reeked of the dark side to him. The smell stank in his nostrils as they flared from the unwelcome scent. He carefully knocked them over with the toe of his boot and watched dispassionately as they rolled around on the floor as they spilled their oh so precious contents. The liquid turned a dark shade of purple and smoked black before they faded from sight as they seeped into the stone. That disturbed him, and he shuddered with the thought of how it would have corrupted the Pilgrim warriors. That _sûdas_ fool of aGuard Captain.

Wrinkling his nose inelegantly, he proceeded to the rear of the cave as far as the tunnel went and knocked over every vat he came across to ensure that there were no more elixir to be found anywhere. In his explorations of the cave, he found the weapons that the Matriarch's advisers had spoken of after killing the Flesh Raider Warmaster that had foolishly challenged him to a duel. As he inspected the weapons and technology in the cache, he was surprised to be hailed by the droid he had assumed to be little more than scrap.

 

_**“T7 = glad to see Jedi! // T7 = captured by Flesh Raiders + needs rescuing”** _

_**“Don't worry, little guy. I'll get you out of there.”** _

_**“Jedi = T7's hero. T7 = Jedi reconnaissance droid // Mission parameters = scout wilderness + identify hazards. T7's restraining bolt = faulty + malfunctioning // T7's sensors = unable to detect Flesh Raider ambush.”** _

 

*** Some more time passed ***

 

Thravang had entered the village once more. He had been successful on the missions he had set out to complete. He turned his attention to a pressing need. He found Vederiat and she addressed him with “You look well, Jedi. I'm glad the Flesh Raiders didn't hurt you. Did you destroy the elixir?”

He gave a grave nod of his head with a somber expression on his face “Odumis tried to bribe me to leave the elixir intact. But yes – I destroyed it.” He felt that she had to know what the village's Guard Captain had attempted. Did she not tend to their spiritual needs?

She sighed with a sad expression on her face “Odumis wanted the elixir for himself, I suppose? You needn't tell me – I can guess. His encounter with the Flesh Raiders addled his mind. I will attend to him. In the meantime, thank you.” She then gave him a bow of respect with her hands clasped in front.

He returned the bow in a manner befitting one of his people then entered the Matriarch's rather humble abode to deliver the weapons to her daughter and walked straight into an argument with his new Master Orgus Din, also present.

 

_**“I'm sorry, Saylew. We all share your loss.”** _

_**“For every one of us the Flesh Raiders butcher, we should kill ten! No, a hundred!”** _

_**“Will that restore your loved one to life?”** _

_**“Don't lecture me, Jedi! My wife is dead! Our people, slaughtered! Where were you then?”** _

 

Thravang blinked and tried to divert the angry ranting Twi'lek by saying “I took all the Flesh Raiders' weapons, so you can defend yourselves.”

“Finally, one of you who understands,” the man muttered angrily and bitterly “Give me those weapons. We'll hunt down the Flesh Raiders. We'll have retribution.”

Thravang shook his head as he swept his hand to one side in a gesture of denial “Your leader should decide how to use those weapons. Not you.”

Ranna, the Matriarch's daughter, agreed with him “Go and mourn your wife, Saylew. I'll organize a militia to protect our village.”

 

Once the man had left, and the two Jidai were left in peace, Master Orgus Din turned to Thravang with a serious expression on his face, and Thravang sensed a lecture coming on. He did his best to muster a suitable facial expression for whatever the lecture might be.

“People wonder why Jedi are forbidden to marry or have families. They don't see how attachments always lead to suffering.” Now the Jidai Master stood in front of Thravang at parade rest “Passionate emotions can destroy a person – and Jedi destroyed by passion become something terrible.”

Thravang was saved from having to say anything by T7 piping up at just that moment “T7 = salutes Master Orgus // T7 reconnaissance report = ready for delivery.”

Thravang mumbled “Teeseven was captured by the Flesh Raiders. You'll want to see the holorecording he made.”

At that, Master Orgus Din promptly excused him so the Master could attend to the droid. Thravang inclined his head and hastily stepped away before he said something that surely would get him into trouble and earn him a very pointed lecture.

 

 _(Dujikri! They seriously believe that tripe about attachments always leading to suffering? By the black blood of Adas, did his parents create him without passion?)_ Thravang pinched the short bridge of his nose with two clawed fingers as he quoted to himself mentally _“The risk of love is loss, and the price of loss is grief. But the pain of grief is only a shadow when compared with the pain of never risking and knowing love. Love is not the same as passion. It must be as a comforting light as much as it is a searing flame.”_ Those had been the words of his father to him, when they had discussed love and passion a while before he had left his homeworld on that fateful trip. _(By the red sands of Korriban, those sûdas Jidai do not know the difference between love and passion.)_ He urgently resisted the temptation to bang his head against the sturdy wall of plastisteel. _(How can they have strength if they have never been loved by someone? How can they have courage if they have never loved someone? How can they forgive others if they do not love others?)_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the dialogue is taken directly from the Jedi Knight story on SW:TOR
> 
> Quote credit to:
> 
> Lao Tzu  
> Bryant McGill  
> Henry Thoreau  
> Hilary Zunin


	5. Book 1 Chapter 5: Tython – Jedi Temple 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thravang heads out to Kaleth to see what the Flesh Raiders are up to there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten Feb 2019 to reflect background story development for Thravang

“ _ **Scouts report that the Flesh Raider forces are gathering in strength.”**_

“ _ **They already control the mountains around us, and now they're invading the ruins of Kaleth.”**_

“ _ **My men spotted them at the remains of an ancient shrine – close to your Jedi Temple.”**_

“ _ **Kaleth was a great city of Force users. Its ruins hold powers we still don't understand.”**_

“ _ **The Flesh Raiders are looking for something there.”**_

“ _ **We can't let them find it. Drive back those Flesh Raiders as soon as possible. I have to take this droid back to the Council.”**_

“ _ **Do whatever it takes to push the Flesh Raiders out of Kaleth. I'll send you reinforcements as soon as possible.”**_

“ _ **I'll hold the line until reinforcements arrive, Master.”**_

  
That had been the day before at the village of Twi'lek Pilgrims that they called Kalikori after he had delivered the droid Teeseven to Master Orgus Din.

  
33 Katmitaja Urnishra Galezta 10 ATC

 

Once again, he had spent the day traveling back to the _Jidai_ Temple from Kalikori Village. This time, he had avoided the meadow where one uxibeast had charged him to chase him away from the herd grazing on the perimeter at the far end. Since he had been forced to go off the path and make a wide detour, he had nearly gotten lost. He had found his way back to the trail using the compass in his pack and his memories of where the river had laid in its bed. He had heaved a sigh of relief when he had spotted the bridge in the near distance as he emerged from a copse of tall trees with broad leaves and thick branches. He wouldn't have to deal with the embarrassment of having to call for an shuttle to come rescue him. He carried with him a safety beacon just in case he ran into an emergency and needed to be evacuated. He was not going to be like those foolish Padawans in the Gnarls. He shook his head at the memories of rescuing them. The _sûdas_ idiots.

The _Jidai_ Temple loomed in the distance and grew larger as he drew near it as he trudged down the dirt path leading away from the quite solid plasticoncrete bridge. He strode into the Temple and made his way up the ramp to the library to dig up what current information they had on Kaleth. Kaleth was ancient history to the Je'daii Order, but that was well over twenty thousand years ago, and he was wondering what the _Jidai_ knew, or speculated about Kaleth.

He had just finished downloading what information they had to his datapad when he felt a hand touching his arm. Not his shoulder because he was just way too tall. He practically towered over everyone present at the _Jidai_ Temple. Nostrils flaring in surprise, he turned around to see who it was. He knew it wasn't his new Master. Orgus Din did not seem the sort to touch people, and it was not his scent either.

He found himself gazing down at that green skinned Mirialan with long flowing golden locks he remembered from that night in the dorm room he had shared with seven other Padawans.

Seeing that he now had the Sith Pureblood's attention squarely on him as Thravang still clutched his datapad in one hand, Felahiran gave a simple nod of his head “Greetings. I am Felahiran Torenil. I bring you a message from Master Yoril Ritusan. He is in charge of the dormitories for the male Padawans. You are to see him, please, as soon as possible.” There was a short pause as Felahiran studied Thravang's facial features before he decided to ask a more prying question “Were you Sith?”

Thravang immediately gave a short shake of his head “If you are referring to the Sith Order, then no.” His smile was friendly, but yet also tentative. It annoyed him to no end how people never made a distinction between the species native to Korriban and the Sith Order.

“If you were not Sith, then …” Felahiran paused to think of how to word the rest of his question, “yet you look Sith Pureblood?” The future Consular finally ventured after scrutinizing him more closely. He had noted how deep a red the Padawan's skin was – so dark as to be nearly black. His eyes had dropped to the hand holding the datapad, and had noted the four digits and the black claw at the end of each finger. He had then raised his golden yellow eyes to Thravang's face, and observed how heavily “bearded” Thravang was compared to the Sith Pureblood holograms he recalled, and discerned the much longer length of Thravang's cheek tendrils. They were easily twice the length for the average Sith Pureblood male. He also regarded the far more prominent and profuse bone ridging on his fellow Padawan's face and neck. Thravang did not have eye “stalk” bones sticking out from his face, but Felahiran had already caught on that such a feature was not consistently found among the Sith Pureblood, so the eye bone spurs must not be that genetically dominant. Nevertheless, Thravang did possess eye ridges where eyebrows would have existed on a human. They just didn't stick out. He also beheld Thravang's unusual molten silver eyes that glowed in the semi darkness of the room corner. Silver was certainly _not_ a typical eye color for Sith Purebloods.

The green skinned Mirialan had sounded very dubious about identifying Thravang as a member of the Sith Pureblood “species”. Everyone knew that the original Sith of Korriban were genetically extinct, right? Yet before him stood someone that made him question the truth of that belief.

Thravang chuckled at Felahiran's uncertain tone and shook his head as he crossed his arms across his chest “I am not a Sith Pureblood, I can assure you.” He changed the subject “Do you know why Master Ritusan wished to see me?”

“I believe it had something to do with the last night you spent here,” Felahiran replied rather primly with his nose wrinkling deeply at the memories of getting farted out of the dorm room.

“Well I suppose I shall have to go see what the matter is. Thank you for delivering the message, Felahiran. I am Thravang Rath, and it was a pleasure to meet you.” He omitted his “middle” name Isâhur since he didn't deem it necessary. With a smile and a shoulder clap, he left Felahiran standing behind with a questioning look growing on his face and far more questions than answers as he strode out of the library to find Master Ritusan.

Felahiran stood rooted to the spot as he stared after the departing Thravang. Rath. What was about Rath that seemed so familiar to him? It felt like an ancient surname. Where had he heard of that name before? Lips pursed, he turned around and sat down in front of a computer terminal where he could access information from the Jedi archives made available freely to Padawans studying at the Jedi Temple to begin his new avenue of research.

 

**** A short while later ****

  
  


Thravang had found Master Ritusan, or so he thought. There couldn't be that many male Bothans present at the _Jidai_ Temple. Master Ritusan wore the typical earthy toned _Jidai_ robes and as Thravang walked up to him standing on a balcony overseeing an indoors salle where younglings were taking their beginning combat lessons, Master Ritusan seemed so.. _short_ to him. He had dark chocolate fur, and had tapered pointed ears. His face had a long snout ending in a muzzle that sported a neatly trimmed beard.

“Master Ritusan? Padawan Felahiran Torenil said you wished a word with me?” The male Bothan turned around and stopped short as the Master found himself looking at a hard muscular belly covered by a pale brown tunic. Emerald green eyes rose until he finally found a face. Without a conscious thought, the Master involuntarily stepped back two paces. Master Ritusan breathed “By the stars! You're certainly tall.”

“I am quite unlikely to get any taller than this,” Thravang answered pertly with his face perfectly straight.

Master Ritusan made a tsking noise but elected to move on with what he had really wanted to see Thravang about “So you are Thravang Rath then?”

“Yes, Master.”

The dark Bothan rubbed his chin beard with his hand as the long skirts of his _Jidai_ robes twitched from the movement of his tail “Knight Yalisan thought it best to assign you to your own room and after having a discussion with him, I am inclined to agree.” He gestured with a sweep of his hand “Come, please follow me.”

The Master showed him to a small room which clearly had been used for storage. It was too small to be used as a dormitory room, but for one Padawan, it was just ... barely large enough. There was the usual furniture in place for a Padawan to use – bed, clothing press, a weapon rack, and a desk study. The problem? All the pieces looked like they hadn't seen usage in _years_ and clearly had been pulled straight out of storage.

“I trust this will suffice for you, Padawan. I hope you realize that we are according you treatment that we usually don't grant to Padawans, but you're an .... unique case.” The last words were stated with a rather decidedly wrinkling of the Bothan's nose. “Of course, you will still have the same rules as everyone else on this floor. Knight Yalisan will check on you at regular intervals.” Then the Bothan Jidai Master was gone striding down the hall presumably to return to his supervision of the younglings.

Thravang looked at the retreating back of the Master for a few moments, shrugged and slung his things over onto the bed. Now was the time to find the Head Cook and discuss his dietary requirements to prevent any further smelly ordeals. So he headed down the hall, down the stairs, and through the corridors to the communal mess hall. Once he had gotten things ironed out with the Head Cook, he was given food kept in reserve for the Zabrak _Jidai_ and he took the food to his usual table. He sat down and ate the food with much better appetite and gusto. The Head Cook, Yosif Palad, had been a former Miralukan Padawan who hadn't passed his Knighthood trials and had been assigned to the kitchen staff years ago on Coruscant, had managed to survive the Sacking, and had accompanied the _Jidai_ to Tython.

He returned to his new quarters and paused to privately preen just for a moment that he, of all the Padawans, had his own room and didn't have to share a dorm room with the others. Then he mentally shook his head – now was not the time to let it all go to his head. He settled down onto his bed, crafted from some type of hard wood, and clearly salvaged from the old _Jidai_ Temple on Coruscant, and opened up his datapad to get some reading in. It was a treatise on the light side of the Force from the view of the _Jidai_ , and it bored him enough that he fell asleep quickly.

Some hours later, there was a THUD and a great deal of incoherent yelling in the room. Thravang fought out of his tangled sheets and managed not to curse out loud. Knight Yalisan barged in to find out what the matter was, paused and took the scene in. His lips twitched just briefly before he managed to compose himself. The sad remains of the bed laid splintered on the floor in several pieces. Clearly, the bed must have taken damage from the fighting and from the weather on Coruscant since the Jedi Temple had been exposed to the air. The Knight helped Thravang up with his hand pulling accompanied by a sharp “Ooof!” from the surprise of just how heavy the Padawan was. Thravang paused to rub his back “That bed was uncomfortable. It wasn't right in the length and it wasn't right in the width either. Do I look slender and short to you, Knight Yalisan?”

The Knight had to cough so he wouldn't snicker as he shook his head by way of reply.

“Fair enough,” Thravang grumbled. “Now I have to find somewhere else to spend the night, but not cooped up in a room full of Padawans. Unless you fancy another episode of the swamp gas monster dreams.”

The Knight had to clamp a hand to his mouth to smother a chuckle “Quite right, there's a nice spot in the Temple garden that might suit you for the night. You'll have all the room you need, and the grass is very cushioning. Take your pillow and sheets, and I'll show you where.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the story dialogue are directly taken from the Jedi Knight story on SW:TOR


	6. Book 1 Chapter 6: Tython - Kaleth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thravang goes to Kaleth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten Feb 2019 to reflect background story development for Thravang

 

The night before, Knight Yalisan had promised him that they would locate a bed much more suited to his frame, and had left him in the Temple garden. Thravang had to admit that he had certainly slept far more comfortably on top of the grass wrapped in his sheets. Birdsong had awakened him at the crack of dawn, and he had enjoyed the brief solitude of simply laying there listening to the birds chirp and tweet their daily greetings to the rising sun in what promised to be a clear sunny day before several Jidai had entered the extensive gardens to mediate. There were trees and bushes there and there, and flowers all over the ground with walking paths laid out neatly. The flowers were very sweet smelling in his nostrils. It really wasn't a bad way to wake up to the sun. He stretched lazily then leveled himself off the ground before he collected his makeshift bedding. A Knight clad in short robes of blue and black laid over battle armor arose from a nearby bench made from local wood and nodded to him with a wry smile on her lips.

The Knight was a human with dark brown hair, fair skin and eyes a surprising golden yellow. She was aware of the Sith Pureblood's sharp glance at her eyes and said simply “I have Sith ancestry in my family.” She held out a hand out to him “I'm Knight Varalisse Falasion by the way. Yalisan asked me to keep watch as a favor to him.” Her lips quirked just a tiny bit “Just to make sure no one else snuck in, you understand.”

“Naturally,” was all Thravang said in a tone faintly sarcastic as he clasped hands with the Jidai Knight that had stood watch over him.

She arched an eyebrow at the tone and crossed her arms across her chest as she shifted weight on one leg.

“I just think there would have been no need to mount a guard, Knight Varalisse, with all the Padawans being so... “ he paused as he searched for a diplomatic way to finish what he had in mind to say.

Once again her lips quirked just a tiny bit “So adherent to the Code?” She chuckled “Don't be too surprised, Padawan. Every year, we always catch at least one pair of Padawans being... “ here she paused for a moment “curious enough to experiment.” Now she gave him just a wink and a knowing nod “I don't think I need to tell you more, Padawan.”

Thravang had to muffle a laugh with a hand over his mouth “It is still not encouraged, however.”

Knight Varalisse shook her head at that “The Council does not encourage such behavior.” Now she gave him a curious look as she studied him “You're certainly … much taller than I expected. I didn't think Sith Purebloods reached such heights.” She reached out and tweaked one of his cheek tendrils “They also don't have tendrils that long either.” She shifted her weight to her other leg, arms still crossed across her chest “Well, I suspect you'll be an enigma to the Order.” A moment passed then she spoke again “I best take my leave of you. It was a pleasure to meet you, Thravang Rath. Your name is all over the Temple grounds.” Now she gave him an impish smile and a few hearty chuckles “Just as well that you've got the clearance to sleep alone by yourself.”

He couldn't help but groan as she disappeared through the arched doorway that led into the Temple hallway. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to be able to live that night down for a while. And why had this Jidai Knight let on that the other Padawans weren't as innocent as he had presumed? It was something to chew on as he made his way to the mess hall to eat a meal finally prepared properly for him by the kitchen staff. Perhaps she had been one of those Padawans that had experimented, as she had put it.

  


34 Eiaja Urnishra Galezta 10 ATC

  


After having had a shower and donning a fresh change of Padawan robes, with his belly comfortably full for the first time since his arrival on Tython without its grumbling and growling, Thravang was ready to face the day. Now it was time to head on to Kaleth to check on the Flesh Raiders and see what they were up to.

After locating the right path once he had consulted a map, he strolled towards the bridge that would guide him to the path, and happened to overhear two Masters discussing their students as he drew near. He eyed them and noted that they seemed to be the old and grumpy sort.

“ _ **I seem to be cursed. Why do I always get the pupils who think they're the exceptions to the rule?”**_

“ _ **Master Silvarte, it's true that our Padawans are acting a bit strangely, but I don't think there's cause for concern.”**_

Thravang was pretending he didn't hear them as he passed them; they were off the side of the path directly before the grey stonework bridge that crossed the noisy flowing river that wound its way across the Jidai Temple grounds.

The conversation paused when one of the Masters spotted him and waved him over “Wait, I have an idea. You, Padawan, I know you.”

Thravang raised an eyeridge “I'm sorry, but I don't believe we have met, Master.” _(Such arrogance!)_

The Master, this Master Silvarte, frowned and faintly flushed but he mumbled an apology “Thank you, I stand corrected, youngster. I only know of you.”

The eyeridge only rose higher at that remark. Youngster? Granted, the Master was old, but that was hardly the proper way to address someone else. He held his tongue rather than say something that surely would land him in scalding water.

The other Master, a Nikto, explained “Master Silvarte is concerned about a couple of our Padawans. He suspects that they are, well...” _(Padawans, plural? Are they so short on Masters that the training Masters have to take several on at one time? I had one Master and two Knights working with me for four years. And he can't even bear to finish that sentence of his. Are they so afraid of emotions? That Knight from the Temple garden was at least more forthright. Perhaps by the time those ajiusona become Masters, their spirit get sucked out of them by that Code of theirs.)_

The balding white haired Human Master finished the sentence left hanging in the air “If I am correct, they are following their passions down a dark path.” _(Dark path, indeed! What do those two Masters think their students are doing? Sneaking off to a secret assignation with Sith spies? Having their way with dead corpses? Merely experimenting with sex isn't hardly what I would consider dark.)_ Of course, he didn't speak his thoughts aloud. He wasn't that foolish. He did have to wonder what it would be like; he was of age now, but if he was going to satisfy his curiosity, it surely would not be here. Not with all the eyes on him.

Both Masters gave him a meaningful look until he finally had to ask what exactly did they want him to do about the situation. He was just a Padawan, after all.

The pale brown Nikto continued thoughtfully “In all other aspects, those two are model pupils. But I agree that we would be remiss if we didn't do what we can do to settle the issue.” _(In other words, what they consider model pupils are sheep that follow the Code blindly.)_

The human nodded his agreement with that statement “They may be more open and revealing with a student like you. We need you to confront them and discover if they are indeed cultivating a romance.”

The eyeridge rose nearly into his maroon hair as Thravang folded his arms across his chest. There was silence for a minute before Thravang finally spoke with an acidic tone “So I am basically to become a glorified snoop, then.” His body language expressed how much he disapproved of the notion.

Master Silvarte, the human, was utterly undeterred “You are helping the Order root out the seeds of darkness. There is no task more important.” _(Seeds of darkness? HA! I fully know the atrocities my ancestors have done in the distant past, and mere sex is not a seed of darkness. Hardly at all. So afraid, they are. They do not know themselves.)_

The Nikto Master gave Thravang the names of their “model pupils”; Moracen and Spanios, and told him where he could find them – the ruins of Lower Kaleth. Thravang felt excitement rise inside him at the mention of Kaleth, but he made sure that his outer countenance was calm. He was finally going to see Kaleth for himself. The Je'daii Order had been long absent from Tython for thousands of years. Especially his Je'daii ancestors. Mentally, he was gleefully rubbing his hands in anticipation of what he might discover there. He merely listened as the Master blabbered on “So go, talk with them, and report back what you discover about their relationship. Try not to alert or alarm them. If they are in love, they are sure to be volatile.”

He managed not to scoff as he bowed his head and took his leave of them as he turned back to the path and crossed the bridge. He shook his head once he was sure they weren't watching him. _(By the red sands! If they are volatile, it is only because it has been forbidden, and only because they have not been taught to handle emotions properly. Oh wait, what emotional training? There is none. After all that precious Code of theirs does say in the first line “There is no emotion, there is only peace.”)_

He knew that there was a little base camp set up by the Jidai on the perimeter of the ruins, so he headed there first to see if he could gather information about the ruins that he was going to be heading into shortly. It took him a day to hike there.

  


**** The next day ****

  


He had stayed overnight at the camp, and had learned some things for himself. One of the Jidai there had been on a mission to collect data from the droids that guarded Kaleth now. That piece of information was new to him. He had pulled out his Jidai issued datapad and scribbled the relevant information down in the flowing Tsis script with his stylus. Another Jidai had mentioned the existence of some ancient technology in a cave somewhere, laid dormant for millennia, and that it needed a source of power. He could obtain some power cores from the ancient war droids that were apparently hostile to everything.

He didn't look backwards at the small base camp that the Jidai had established as his thoughts turned to Kaleth. With a part of his mind set to watch his surroundings as he softly padded forth on the dirt path, he reviewed the tales that the Lorekeeper had softly chanted to him and his siblings on long cold wintry evenings during his childhood and early youth. The Lorekeeper had been an elderly woman that had retired from her job as a nanny to the Royal House once her old bones had protested too much, and she had learnt the tales of olden days long gone so she could recite them to the children and anyone else that cared to sit and listen. He smiled fondly as he recalled her sitting in an age worn chair ornately carved from a local hardwood a deep rich brown with golden streaks. She always had a warm blanket of tawny golden fur covering her lap and she always had a tolerant gentle smile for her audience, born from years of handling Force sensitive miscreants, and a knowing twinkle in her dark amber eyes that glowed softly.

“ _In the days of old, in the days of the Order, when they studied the mysteries of the Force and sought to understand the Force, and sought to attain balance in the Force, there were nine great Temples on Tython. Each Temple was founded around one Tho Vor, and there were nine Tho Vor. Nine to match nine, you see. Each Temple had its own specialization in the study of the Force. Now I shall tell you about Kaleth, the Temple of Knowledge. It was overseen by a Temple Master whose name has long been lost to the mists of time in the days of young Guvazotir Churâsil Rath. As you should know, it was he who established the Order among our Clans when he discovered us lost adrift in deep space after he became a Master. Kaleth was set deep in a heavily forested valley, it is said, in the western mountain ranges of the Tythos Ridge. That location was chosen because there was a nexus in the Force there, and thus, Kaleth was where all the Je'daii gathered to undertake decisions for important matters. Judgments were also rendered there that affected the entire Order...”_

His rather sentimental reverie was cut short by the mental shrill warning of his second stream of consciousness as an ancient war droid took aim at him with its blaster pistol and missed which he dodged easily with a twisting of his torso and an abrupt short exclamation of dismay before he yanked his warblade free of its scabbard and made short work of the droid. He made a mental note to be more aware of his surroundings; this hadn’t been the time to go woolgathering.

After whacking several more groups of those war droids, he spied the two Padawans in a little stand of trees where they couldn’t be readily seen by the droids. He picked his way over the metal corpses across a broad expansion of verdant swarth with a derelict fountain in the midst to the little copse. He noted that the couple were not paying heed to anything save themselves. _(Fools. I daresay they won’t notice a droid in time to avoid getting shot.)_

A Zabrak and a human, but he did not think much of it. After four years of traveling with Master Iakan and the two Knights, he was now accustomed to seeing different species and how they would interact with each other. He caught snatches of their conversation as he approached them.

“ _ **You found it! Well done, Moracen!”**_

“ _ **Oh, Spanios. I couldn’t have done it without you.”**_

“ _ **You’re amazing. I don’t care what the Masters say. We’re proving everyone wrong. Come here and give me a kiss…”**_

He interrupted them at that point by saying with a slow deliberate wink “When you’re done with him, I’ll take one too.”

The young male Zabrak asked “Who are you?”

The young human woman hastily added “This isn’t what you think it is.”

Thravang raised one eyebrow and made a casual hand gesture “I think you two

are romantically involved.”

The two exchanged glances then the Zabrak turned back to him and admitted “Okay, maybe it is what you think it is.”

The human, Moracen, exclaimed in apprehension “Spanios!”

“I’m sorry, my love, but I’m sick of hiding. The Order is wrong.” The Zabrak’s face was solemn. As Thravang looked on with his head tilted to one side, the young male continued “Fear, not emotion, is the adversary of the Jedi way. Ironically, the Masters fear emotion, and there they deny us its bounty.”

Thravang knew perfectly very well what he was _supposed_ to say. But to have said so would have made him a hypocrite. His own people functioned just fine without the Jidai Code or Sith Code. There was a Code that they did follow, but he wasn’t going to get into that with the star-crossed Padawans in front of him.

Moracen chipped in with “The power of our love is why we work so well together. Our teamwork allowed us to find this rare lightsaber crystal.”

Thravang heaved a sigh as the wind ruffled his long flowing hair before he pointed a black clawed finger at the two Padawans “I do want you two to consider what your Masters would think. I rather doubt that they will be easy to convince.”

Moracen burst out “Spanios, please help me convince this upstart not to expose us!”

“I love you, Moracen. And if you believe we must remain hidden, I honor that, but it may take a sacrifice,” the Zabrak answered.

“You mean the crystal. I agree, my love.”

“Friend, if you tell the Masters we’re not romantically involved, we’ll give you this

powerful crystal for your future lightsaber. Would that buy your silence?”

For a long moment all Thravang could do was just stare at them in dismayed disbelief. He was being bribed not to report them! He was feeling rather offended, as if his honor was in question. He was quite sorely tempted to face palm himself. He ground out between clenched teeth “I’ll decide what to do when I return to your Masters.”

Spanios nodded “We’ll hold out hope, and if you tell them that you found nothing suspicious, return to us.”

Moracen added as a warning “Don’t you dare try to fool us; we will know if you do.”

Thravang simply gave a sharp nod of his head, turned, and continued on his way deeper into the ruins. After collecting the memory cores from the droids, he finally discovered the entry to a tunnel in one of the cliff sides in the ruins. He paused in front of the opening long enough to do some quick preliminary sketches of what he had seen in the ruins so far as he pummeled his brain for anything in the tales the Lorekeeper had told the children about Kaleth. Then he mentally shook his head. Kaleth was in ruins now, the tales covered a Kaleth of some twenty-odd thousand years ago in the quite distant past.

He entered the darkened tunnel with care as to what he might find, the scent of decaying death laid thick on the still air in his flaring nostrils. He slowly walked forward with his warblade already drawn and ready to strike in his left hand. He did not have to go far before he came across Flesh Raiders inside the tunnel. They were of a different sort compared to the ones he had encountered in the Tythos Ridge. They were not much of a hindrance to him as he moved through the tunnel and out onto a deep clearing nestled within a hollow. He paused to gaze around and noted an ancient shrine in the midst of the dell fallen into ruin. He also spotted Flesh Raiders moving about the shrine. His objective was clear; he had to stop them. So he strode forward with his warblade at the ready until he drew near the figures.

“Jeehd-ay…”

He raised an eyeridge at that, he hadn’t thought the Flesh Raiders to be capable of speech. He mentally grimaced at himself, he had made the elemental mistake of underestimating his enemy. He studied the Flesh Raider standing before him, this one had a mishmash of armor and seemed to have superior status. A Chieftain, perhaps? Thravang raised a hand in a warning gesture “Go peacefully, or face the consequences. This is your only warning.” He stood in a defensive stance with his warblade held ready for a block.

The Flesh Raider chieftain chuckled, just as Thravang had expected, and launched an attack on him with the Force. He quickly discovered himself shoved backwards a good twenty feet and wound up on his back in a patch of grass heavily flowered with yellow petals. He quickly leapt to his feet and made another mental grimace to himself. One of those days, he would learn to defend against Force push, but today was not that day. He also knew that he would be developing bruises under his dark maroon skin shortly. He had _slammed_ into the ground. As soon as he had regained his footing and was scowling at the Chieftain, the Flesh Raider screeched “Kill Jeehd-ay!” as the Chieftain pointed at him. The fight was on!

The corpses of the Flesh Raiders littered the ground around the shrine when two figures rushed out from the tunnel. Thravang spun around and lowered his blade when he saw that the two figures were female _Jidai_. It was that Togruta Jidai Master and her Padawan he recalled from the meeting at the Jidai Temple. Grimacing in distaste, he cleaned the blade of his warblade on the most clean scraps of leather he could find on the Flesh Raider bodies, then sheathed the weapon. He glanced behind him at the now peaceful shrine for a moment then turned to face the two women. He was not in pain.. Yet. He strove to remember the adult’s name… ah yes, that was it, Master Kiwiiks, and her Padawan’s name was Kira. The Togruta said “Master Orgus sent us. We came as quickly as we could.”

He gestured at the now still bodies “One of the Flesh Raiders I just fought called me “ _Jidai_.” He could also use the Force, he Force pushed me.” He pointed to the patch of grass, now flattened with the yellow flower petals scattered all over, to show how far he had been pushed.

The Master looked troubled as she answered “That’s troubling. If the Flesh Raiders are learning the ways of the Force, it won’t be on the side of light.”

Thravang was not inclined to argue with that sentiment.

Kira stared at the corpses Thravang had left on the ground in an erratic fashion then looked at him “You sure made short work of this bunch. You ever leave survivors?”

His left eyeridge rose high into his brow as he bluntly asked Kira “When was the last time you fought someone trying to kill you?”

“Besides my Master? Eh… a few months,” was her swift response.

Thravang quickly found himself hiding a smile. He rather liked her sense of humor. It had to be a joke, right? He cast a glance at the Togruta Master. Sure enough, the Master admonished her student “This is no laughing matter, Padawans.”

Thravang stood aside as he watched Master Kiwiiks rummage through the bodies. She was clearly checking for something, and she stood up with something in her hands. It was a small squared box that had purple inlay metal and had a blue colored matrix. It was a Jidai holocron. One that looked quite ancient.

Her comment confirmed his initial thought “This Flesh Raider carried a holocron - a repository of knowledge created by a Force user. Thousands of years old, from the looks of it.” _(I know what a holocron is. What am I, the local Temple ajiusona? Even the youngest students would know what a holocron is.)_

She continued, blithely unaware of his uncharitable thoughts, “Master Orgus was right. These natives are more advanced than we realized. They’re learning how to fight us.” _(Well duh. Ignore something long enough, and you’ll always be caught off guard when they do something you did not expect.)_

He decided to ask a question that no one had explained to him before “What do the Flesh Raiders have against us?” As far as he knew, the Jidai had pretty much left everything else alone and not interfered. Case in point, the Twi’lek village. They hadn’t gotten involved until now when the threat of the Flesh Raiders became too great to ignore.

“From their perspective, we’ve invaded their home -- but there’s more to this than a territorial dispute,” the Master told him. “I wish we could stay, see this through - but Master Satele has ordered us to Coruscant on a special mission.”

He crossed his arms and was about to make a comment about what fine help they would be to him when Kira spoke “All those bad feelings the Council’s been having? She thinks the Republic capital is the source.”

Master Kiwiiks sagely nodded “I’m sorry to have to leave you, but the danger is passed. These surveillance monitors will keep watch on Kaleth.” She held out several packages to him. He took them, taking care to keep his face neutral, and listened to her finish “Place them around the ruins. The temple can then monitor any future incursions by our enemies.”

He muttered “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find their leader.”

“May the Force be with you, Padawan.”

He watched them leave. The danger was definitely _not_ past. By the crown of Adas, any fool could see that. Now that he was not being observed, he was free to pinch his nose with his left fingers as he shook his head. Once again he was on his own. He grumbled sourly to himself as he pulled out his sketch pad and made a drawing of the shrine and the hollow that it laid in. After a moment of consideration, he also drew the corpses of the slain Flesh Raiders to display how they had looked while alive. He then headed back to the ruins and found suitable places to plant the monitors, made several more sketches as he wandered around the ruins and killed yet more of the time crazed ancient war droids.

During his wandering, he discovered the cave where the Chamber of Speech lurked, hidden, and discovered much to his sorrow that the computer had become so thoroughly corrupted by the passage of long years that all the knowledge it contained was lost forever, save for what little Thravang had been able to retrieve from the Gatekeeper. He also sketched that as well. His immediate tasks done, he made his way back to the little camp and had the medical droid tend to his bruised back. On the morrow, he would return to his Master. He had received a holocall while in the ruins to meet his Master at the Twi’lek settlement, but it would take time for Orgus Din to return there, so he was free to spend the night in the camp before beginning his travel once more.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References taken from SWTOR Jedi Knight class story.  
> References taken from Dawn of the Jedi


	7. Book 1 Chapter 7: Tython - Raiding the Flesh Raiders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Flesh Raiders keep turning up like a bad penny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten Feb 2019 to reflect background story development for Thravang

 

37 Lorija Hatashra Galezta 10 ATC

 

For two days he had trudged through a fierce storm that had abruptly sprang up since his departure from that little camp at the edge of the Kaleth ruins. This storm was no ordinary storm. From the Lorekeeper's tales that she spun for her listeners, he knew that Tython was extraordinarily sensitive to the Force. The _Jidai_ imbeciles must have done something. Or perhaps that mysterious leader of the Flesh Raiders had done something. It was a toss-up between the twain at this point. As he made sure his hood was completely pulled over his head to shelter his face from the lashing gales, he shook his head. A sharp harsh blinding crack of light followed by a rolling crash of thunder flowed over his weather darkened figure as he crossed a wide-open meadow empty of living creatures. It was like the beasts had the wits to take shelter under the wildly waving boughs of the trees some distance away. Suddenly, he felt a warning and threw up a Force shield just before he got knocked flying into the trees. He laid there, wind knocked out of him, as he spent a few moments gasping for air before he slowly rose up against the ak tree that had helpfully interrupted his short flight. Quite painfully. Cold rain now ran down his exposed face in a flood of rivulets and he shook them free as he yanked his hood up and over his head. He stood still for a long silent moment to finish gathering his wits then glanced up at the raging storm in the blackened skies. He simply couldn't wait it out here, surely the village could offer better shelter than the trees. Now if he could just avoid any more lightning strikes. He sighed heavily and clicked his tongue in dismay, he was now going to have to alter his planned route so he wouldn't be crossing wide open spaces until the storm either abated or he got to the village.

Several hours later he spotted the village walls through the sheer curtain of rain in front of his face and quickened his pace as he hurried. He wanted to get through the land they kept clear of trees so the guards would have excellent visibility for anyone approaching the village. He did not heave a sigh of relief until he was safely within the Matriarch's quarters. He ducked behind a screen to change out of his sodden robes and trews into dry ones from his traveling backpack. He had already espied his Master tending to the droid, what was its name again? Oh right, it was Teeseven. There were so many astromechs he had run across that it was hard to remember the name of one single droid.

Orgus spoke without looking at him “Master Kiwiiks told me what you found in Kaleth – a Flesh Raider who used the Force.” At that, Thravang could only surmise that the Togruta had contacted his Master by holo and had debriefed the older male as he subconsciously stretched his back out to check how bruised it still felt after three days. “She thought he was learning things from an holocron. I wish that were true.”

Now that, Thravang agreed with. He did not think the Flesh Raiders advanced enough in intelligence to be able to learn things from a mere object, no matter how well constructed the Gatekeeper was. No, they have had to be taught by _someone_ , but whom? That was the question, indeed.

Orgus stood up and turned to face him “The man who attacked you when you first arrived? His lightsaber had a familiar aspect. This droid's holorecording confirmed my suspicions.”

Much to his surprise, the droid bowed its head “T7 = sorry for bringing bad news.”

“The hooded figure in that recording is named Bengel Morr. He was my Padawan – but he never completed his training.” _(By the red sands! Oh lovely, now he'll expect his_ _new_ _Padawan to take on and defeat his old Padawan. Really, just how delightful.)_ Blithely unaware of his Padawan's thoughts, the Master continued “Bengel was in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant when the Sith destroyed it.”

Thravang tugged at his cheek tendril briefly before he answered “The Force was with him if he got out of there alive. Why did he wait this long to reveal himself?” _(Perhaps the attack was too much for him to bear. Nevertheless, that does not excuse his actions. He should have been made of more stern stuff than that.)_

“The temple was annihilated. Hundreds of Jedi died that day. We never recovered all the bodies. Still don't understand why he just disappeared. Doesn't make any sense. Bengel was strong in the Force, and the gentlest being I've ever known. For him to turn against the Jedi... he has to be stopped.” _(Humph. He wasn't emotionally strong enough to handle it, you mean. Curse you Jidai, you don't train your Padawans properly. All you do is shove that first line of the Code down their throats until they either swallow or choke on it.)_

Anything that Thravang would have said to his Master at this point was rendered moot by the arrival of Ranna Tao'Ven – the green Twi'lek woman who had been assisting them with intel about the Flesh Raiders. The woman nodded to the two Jidai and apologized for keeping them waiting with the sorrowful news of her mother, the Matriarch, dying. He gave his heartfelt condolences, his hopes that she would be alright in due time, and murmured that she should be at her mother's side.

Ranna gave him this _look_ and answered “You're kind, but my mother wants me here.” She proceeded to inform them about a command base that her scouts had discovered hidden in the mountains by energy shields, and that the shield generators were well guarded in a different cave complex in another mountain.

Orgus turned to Thravang and asked “You up for knocking out the shield generator?”

The tall Tsis nodded and held out both his hands “When have I ever let you down?”

Orgus replied in a half teasing tone as he lifted an eyebrow “First time for everything – not that I'm worried.”

At that point the droid spoke up “Important secondary mission = perform high-level scan of enemy forces // Mountains paths = too dangerous for T7.”

Orgus looked off into the distance with a thoughtful expression on his face “Hmm. See if you can give T7 the opening he needs to gather more intelligence, Padawan.”

“T7 = give Jedi head start // Follow when path is clear.”

Orgus seemed satisfied with that and turned to Thravang with a sterner look “That energy shield is your top priority. Knock it out fast as you can.”

Thravang simply bowed his head in acknowledgment “May the Force be with you, Master.” Then he took himself out with the droid in tow behind him.

As he strolled past one of the buildings towards the heavily guarded village gate, he was hailed by another Twi'lek woman. Her skin leaned more towards yellowish than outright green, and her lekku markings were like a rusty orange in color. He turned to face her with an expectant face. Those villagers seemed to be so desperate in need of Jidai help that they had been denied for far too long due to the idiotic policy the Council had undertaken with them. She burst out with “Jedi! You came! I was afraid – I didn't think you'd make it. You have to be fast. You have to find my son before he's hurt!”

Thravang was now bewildered – what under the red sands did she mean? He raised a hand to stop her continued barrage of words “I'm sorry, I don't understand. What about your son?”

Her face turned sorrowful and rather pitiful in her maternal worry for her son. In a few more moments, he warranted that she would have started crying, and he really hated that. “I knelt at the temple gates. I begged for Jedi help. Isn't that why you came?” She bowed her head as she gazed at the ground “The Flesh Raiders took him a week ago. They came at twilight. One of them was just … covered in blood and scars. He dragged my son away. Listen. Our scouts saw Viyo – my son – on Tythos Ridge. That's where the Raiders have their camp. They say he's hurt. He's bleeding and limping, but he's alive. He's waiting for rescue.”

He frowned “I'm a Jidai, this is what we're here for.” _(One week and not dead yet. There might be hope for her son, after all. I have the strong impression that the Flesh Raiders do not normally keep captives alive that long. There must be a reason.)_

Thravang shifted his weight from one leg to the other one as she continued “If you can't find him on Tythos Ridge, look for a sign – something he'd leave behind as a signal. He had his satchel with him. He could leave that.”

Now she pleaded with him “The Flesh Raiders will try to stop you – but I've seen Jedi fight. Help me, Jedi. Help him.” Now she gave him a hopeful expression with just a tiny smile that looked propitious

He passed out of the village, through the Hollows, and into the upper reaches of the Tythos Ridge. This time, there was not that much clashing of metal on poorly mismatched armor thanks to his previous work in the past few weeks. Either he had thinned their numbers enough, or they were avoiding him on purpose, recognizing him as the dark red skinned giant who had slain so many of their number in combat. Currently, he was the only “Sith Pureblood” present on Tython at the Jidai Temple. He slowed his walk as he searched the dusty path in front of him in a particular step-step-step-pause-step-step-step-pause cadence for any sign of a dropped satchel. He was fairly certain that at this point in time, Viyo would have dropped it. He was about to step forward again after the umpteenth time when he spotted the satchel lying half hidden under a scraggly bush just off the path near what passed for a dwelling among the Flesh Raiders.

Stifling a shout of triumph, he scampered to seize the satchel and swept it off the ground. He squatted near the ground, as low as his frame would allow him to, and glanced around. There had to be a side path somewhere, leading off the main path higher up a ridge. He felt the Force draw his eyes to a spot, then he saw what he sought. He rose quickly with his left hand gripping the hilt of his warblade as he crept to that path. He slanted his silver eyes up the dusty track and did not see any obvious signs of _recent_ death, nor did he scent recent death. He carefully climbed the dusty track to the top of the ridge where he came to a little campsite with broken wooden posts set into the ground to create a crude enclosure.

Scantly had he arrived at the campsite when a young yellow-greenish Twi'lek male greeted him with “Jedi...? Thank the Matriarch.”

Thravang scanned the campsite, there was a Flesh Raider dwelling with a hanging light attached to it, and that was where the Twi'lek had emerged from.

He nodded briefly at the Twi'lek and inquired “Are you Viyo son of Trea Kobbeth?”

The young male affirmed that yes, it was his name. Before Viyo could say more, they were interrupted by a Flesh Raider that popped out of the crude tent and came over to them. Thravang raised an eyeridge as he studied the Flesh Raider. This Flesh Raider was rather unusual in appearance. For one, the only weapon he carried was a training saber that must have been taken from a Padawan some time ago. Probably one that had dropped it and ran for safety. Smart idea to run, but dumb idea to drop the weapon. _(By the black blood of Adas! You never provide your enemies with something they can use against you!)_

He almost tsked at the thought, but now was not the time to express his sentiments. Secondly, the Flesh Raider was garbed rather plainly. No mismatched metal armor. Instead, he wore what passed for a vest with his chest exposed to plain view. He hadn't known that the Flesh Raiders had chests with rows of bony protrusions running down the center. His feet were wrapped with fabric, and he was adorned with a loincloth of the same fabric. The fabric material looked like something the Flesh Raider would have rummaged from salvage, since the fabric was varying brown in color. Definitely nothing that he could recognize.

This Flesh Raider also spoke. He even pronounced _Jidai_ right. “Hsst! Jedi talk. Jedi peace!” He was now getting flashbacks to his own lessons in Basic, and how crude it had been at the beginning. The smugglers had started the lessons, and Master Iakan had finished the lessons.

Viyo made a hand gesture at the Flesh Raider “He... he wants to speak to you. He's too weak to fight.” _(Too weak to fight? A Flesh Raider? Might as well build a boat and sail it through the sea of stars to Naraka.)_

For once, Thravang was finally able to satisfy his curiosity. He noticed that the Flesh Raider had blue eyes, and his teeth were quite pointed and on the crooked side, and that he had what seemed to be eight nostrils above his mouth, four to a side.

The Flesh Raider held out a hand “Jedi – Jedi peace!”

Viyo attempted his best to convey what his most strange companion wanted “He needed someone to help him communicate. That's why he took me away. It's why he's letting us meet. I've been trying to teach him Basic.”

Thravang pursed his lips in thought as he inquired “So this Flesh Raider took you to act as his translator? Do you even know his name?” He silently amended _(If those... creatures have names.)_

Viyo confirmed “Yes. It's hard, though, and I can't tell when he understands. I think his name is Fashk. I – I....” _(Huh, they DO have names. They are not as primitive as the idiotic Jidai have estimated.)_

At that point whatever might have been said was lost as Fashk pointed a finger at Thravang “Head-thing talk! Head-thing talk, learn power.”

Viyo immediately held his arms out with palms down to placate the Flesh Raider “I'm trying! Please, I'm trying.” Then he turned back to the now extremely curious Thravang. Fashk was behaving like no other Flesh Raider that Thravang had personally witnessed. “He thinks he has power. He thinks he can use the Force, and he wants Jedi to train him.”

Thravang raised an skeptical eyeridge as he asked “Why would he want that?”

“I know. I told him that. He really believes he's like the Jedi. Though.” It was then that Thravang noticed that Viyo had brilliant blue eyes. Rather striking, that, given the Twi'lek's pale yellowish skin with darker orange freckles on his cheekbones and drab olive markings on his lekku. “He says he can feel the Jedi's power when he comes close to the temple. He says he can... he can smell power in the rocks. It makes him strong.” Then the Twi'lek cast a glance at the Flesh Raider at his side before he continued “The other Flesh Raiders serve him because they fear his curse, but the Force overwhelms him. He needs to learn from the Jedi to control the power. He's weak.” _(So he is weak because he can not control himself and not in a consistent manner. Makes sense.)_

Thravang played with a cheek tendril for a few moments before he finally questioned “Does he even understand what he's asking? What _Jidai_ training involves?”

“I'm not sure. He thinks the Jedi are hunters.” _(Hunters of knowledge, yes. Hunters of anything else? Not much.)_

Fashk spoke up then “Take power! Hunt power! Go rock-den... head-thing flesh.”

“He won't let me go unless you help me get into the Jedi Temple. You can do that, right? Get the Jedi Masters to train him?” Viyo sounded really anxious.

Thravang sighed “I'll go to the temple and see what I can do. I can not guarantee that they will take him.” He had a hunch that if he refused, Viyo would not last much longer.

“Hsst. Rock-den power. Go rock-den, go tree-den.”

Thravang took it to translate as 'go to the temple, go to a .. camp, perhaps?'

Viyo confirmed his guess “We can meet you at a spot outside the Flesh Raiders' camp. We'll make camp along the path and watch for you.” He turned and pointed in the general direction of where the campsite would be outside the territory; Thravang thought it might be somewhere along a trail in the Tythos river valley. He nodded at both – the location made sense; not too far from the Jidai Temple, but not near enough to be discovered quickly. The _Jidai_ didn't even have patrols. Either they had far too much faith in themselves, or they were far too few in numbers to ensure the security of their territory. “But... be careful. I'd like to go home very soon.” The undertone of his voice said _preferably alive._ Then the twain, Twi'lek and Flesh Raider, turned and returned to their makeshift dwelling. Thravang took it as his cue to leave.

 

*** Some hours later ***

 

He was now deep within Flesh Raider territory, and deep within a cave he had discovered at top of a path leading up another ridge that overlooked a valley full of those haphazardly makeshift dwellings slapped together from salvaged materials. His warblade saw heavy use as he fought his way through Flesh Raider Boneguards until he met up with the Chieftain and slew him too. He noticed that the Chieftain had a far more decent tent that didn't look assembled from a wild assortment of salvage. It was also well lit too. He turned away from the tent; he rather doubted that it would contain anything of interest to him nor to his mission, and pressed deeper in until he came to something very incongruous. A computer terminal, complete with a small holo transceiver attached to one of the end consoles. He swiftly located the keyboard and started tapping away as he peered intently at the monitor looking for the program to shut down the energy shield. There, it was now down with a mere click of his finger. A hologram flared to life from that transceiver, and Thravang turned to see who it was. A male Nautolan in what seemed to be old Jidai armour, he thought, from the looks of the shimmering figure.

“Hmm. You must be the Padawan who slaughters my people.” _(Ha! What people? No one in full possession of mental faculties would claim the Flesh Raiders as “my people.”)_ There was a pause as the male's eyes widened momentarily at the sight of Thravang after the Padawan had turned fully towards him with arms crossed across his broad chest. “Your misguided attacks change nothing. Your time is over.”

Thravang could not help but snort in derision “We'll see about that. Master Orgus is looking for you, Bengel.” There could be no other possible identity for the strange Nautolan based on what Master Orgus had told Thravang.

“Orgus won't find me. I will find him. You executed my apprentice Callef. I can feel his death on you.” _(Ajiusona! Execution? I would hardly call it that. He was about to kill a defenseless Padawan.)_ Thravang rolled his eyes as Bengel continued “I spent years training him. He was a good man, a principled man. Proud of yourself?” _(Oh please! By the crown of Adas, this man can not be serious. Good man? Principled? He is so deluded, he is grasping at straws in a grossly misguided effort to justify his actions and thoughts.)_

“Your so called 'apprentice' was quite willing to sully his own honor by killing a defenseless Padawan. He had no principles to speak of, and he left me no choice.” Thravang's tone was quite flat.

“There's always a choice. You should've surrendered to the inevitable. Every so-called Jedi on Tython is going to die. That's a promise. Your entire order is weak. You're done nothing to stop the Sith Empire's advances.” _(By the black blood of Adas, he's definitely a cracked egg. His sanity has leaked out years ago. You have made your choice, and so have I.)_

“Don't give in to hatred, Bengel. Let us help you.” Thravang knew that Bengel would not accept the offer, but he still had to make the offer so he could tell the Council with a clear mind that his offer had been rejected.

“Help me become a coward like you? I'm the only true Jedi left in the galaxy.” _(By the crown, why am I stuck with this blithering ajiusona? Him, the only true Jidai? He's really cracked.)_ Now Thravang did pinch his nose with his fingers.

“Enjoy this little victory. It's your last.” Then Bengel vanished from sight. Bengel had tried to taunt him with that little comment, but Thravang was not buying it. He was going to have to return to the Jidai Temple and warn the Masters. He grumbled to himself for a few moments before he hoisted his traveling haversack and retraced his route though the Flesh Raider infested lands.

 

39 Katmitaja Hatashra Galezta 10 ATC

 

He was finally back at the Jidai Temple, and was walking towards the great flight of stairs that led into the Jidai Temple when he passed two Padawans having a conversation. He did not recognize them, but both were humans and judging by their appearances, they were older teenagers. The young male seemed to be complaining about how slow their training was.

_**“Jerikko, our training is slow for a reason.”** _

_**“Cora, I don't care! I'm ready for the final trial.”** _

_**“The Forge? You can't be serious! You could die.”** _

_**“Maybe. My Master can't keep me a Padawan forever, can he?”** _

 

Thravang mentally shook his head. Jerikko was right that he couldn't be kept a Padawan forever, but if he was already impatient, that bespoke a character flaw that would do him in sooner rather than later. He took care of some business by speaking to two different Jidai Masters about errands he had embarked on while running after the Flesh Raiders to see what they had been up to, then went to eat a proper meal and got a full night's rest for once in his little room. He had been glad to see the full size bed they had promised him. It even was the proper length and had enough padding that he had been able to slumber peacefully without snoring.

The next morning, after a bath and his fast broken, he went up the ramp to the top floor to find the Master in charge of new recruits for the Order. He strode into the large room where there was a massive holoprojector that displayed a galaxy wide map the Jidai used to keep track of events and locations that they had Jidai assigned to. He approached the brown robed human male that was mostly bald but had a high ponytail as the man stood gazing at the holomap. Thravang hid a grimace at the sight of that tonsure. The man would be far better served going completely bald instead of trying to preserve what imaginary “dignity” the man thought he had left with his hair loss. The bearded man turned to face him when Thravang coughed discreetly behind him and as soon as he caught sight of the young Tsis, he frowned “Forgive me, young Jedi, but I do not have time to give lessons these days. My only concern is administering to the Order's new recruits. If you are here on an unrelated matter, I fear I have no help to offer.”

Thravang nobly refrained from rolling his eyes “I'm here on business, Master Strayen. I found a Flesh Raider that wishes to become a Jidai.”

The Master's brown eyes widened in shock at the news “A Flesh Raider? Are you serious?” He prevaricated as he studied the flooring with downcast eyes as he gestured with a hand “My understanding is that those creatures are primitive, cruel and bloodthirsty – not ideally prepared for the lifestyle of a Jedi.”

Even Thravang had to agree with that assessment “That's the way I understand it. However, he does have a name, and he did not attack me on sight. He spoke to me, Master, with the help of a Twi'lek boy from the village.” _(Granted, Viyo had been kidnapped, but the fact he remains alive and not eaten does speak for itself with that Flesh Raider and still is a marked improvement compared to what is known about those creatures.)_

“And yet you come to me anyway.” Such a simple statement made by the Master before he continued “Even assuming this recruit is strong in the Force, do you really think such a dangerous student could be taught?”

“The Jidai managed to teach me, didn't they?” Thravang simply responded.

“Indeed. I've heard stories,” Master Strayen admitted. Stories of his temper. Stories of the language barrier he had for a while since his Basic hadn't been much more than just rudimentary. Even now, he spoke with a thick and heavy accent that was quite lyrical. Stories of his combat aggression, yet those very same stories also spoke of his combat skill. Stories of how uneducated he had been in the eyes of the Jedi Order. He had so much to learn in four short years, and yet here he was on Tython. Stories of how skeptical and argumentative he had been, and Master Iakan's struggles to teach him the Code and the tenets that the Jedi Order swore by.

In the next moment, the Master reached a decision “Very well. Send your recruit to the temple. Give him this medallion, and the watchmen will know to grant him passage.” He handed Thravang the medallion, a simple token enameled with the symbol of the Jedi Order on top in silver and sky blue, before he resumed speaking “When he arrives, I will consult with the Jedi Council. We will do what we can.” Thravang knew a dismissal when he heard one. He simply inclined his head and left.

He once again headed out after fetching some more traveling rations and stowing them away in his backpack. He now had to find Viyo and Fashk at their little campsite. On his search he passed by the Twi'lek village, and he happened to overhear snatches of a conversation between some villagers standing near the gates.

 

_**“Please, Joti, go to the Jedi again. We can't wait for the Flesh Raiders to kill us all.”** _

_**“Kariya, the Jedi aren't interested. We've sent plenty of requests for help. Nothing. We'll have to fight the Flesh Raiders ourselves. Round up a militia, try another attack... something.”** _

_**“Joti, the last time we went out, they ate people. Ate them.”** _

_**“Kariya, what choice do we have?”** _

 

Once he was safely out of earshot down the path he thought might lead him into a more sheltered valley away from the Hollows where he might find the campsite, Thravang shook his head and muttered several choice phrases in the native tongue of his people. He knew very well _why_ the _Jidai_ had not sent help, but he was not the one to explain to the villagers. He had been assisting the villagers, true, but he was _only_ one, and a Padawan at that on the request of his Master. A militia was a good idea, but a terrible idea if the militia had no training and no equipment to deal effectively with the Flesh Raiders. He wondered if it was because people had become too dependent on the _Jidai_ for help. It did seem that way. He clicked his tongue in disapproval at that notion. The moment you became too dependent on someone, you shackled yourself and became a mere shadow of what you could have been, and he privately vowed to himself never to fall victim to that trap.

He paused long enough under one of the native Tythonian trees and pulled out the rough sketches of the territory he had passed through so far to determine where he hadn't been yet. He found a trail called the Elarian trail that had branched off into the river valley, and that same trail also passed near the _Jidai_ camp near the ruins of Kaleth, and he traced the route with a finger on his datapad. Ah yes, it might be the one he sought. It seemed that routes from the village were very few. He was going to have to retrace his steps a fair bit if he did not wish to traipse through the Hollows again. So he turned around with a heavy sigh and sauntered his way through the forests and over the river to where the Elarian trail began, and took the south branching. It wound its merry way through glades of tall trees with long narrow leaves that were prickly to the touch, and the trail path also stayed near the river. At first the trail had begun gently next to the river and now it steadily rose higher above the noise of the rushing water until the trail sat on top of a cliff passing by waterfalls. He thought he saw a cave opening behind one of the waterfalls, but he couldn't be too certain of that because of all the spray from the water splashing on the rocks, then the path finally took a sharp turn westwards away from the river, and he followed it as it meandered into a forested valley. On one twist of the path, he finally spotted a campfire burning gently. The tent had to be hidden well, but he could scent the Flesh Raider and the Twi'lek as his nostrils flared. He made his way to the camp site, and sat down on a flat rock to stretch his legs out momentarily.

The two came out of hiding from behind a tree, and Thravang waved at them as he beckoned them over.

The Twi'lek youngster exclaimed in relief “Jedi! You came.”

Fashk impatiently held a hand out at Thravang, and Thravang noted that the Flesh Raider had three fingers on his hands “Jedi talk – learn power!”

Viyo queried anxiously “What happened at the temple? What did the Masters say? Tell him.”

“Jedi talk! Hsst!” Now Fashk was pointing a finger.

Thravang made a calming gesture “I've done as you wished.” He handed the Flesh Raider the safe passage token. “Show that to the guards and you'll be allowed inside.”

“You hear that? You get what you wanted. Hunt-power, Jedi-power, the rock-den – all of it.” Viyo told Fashk.

Once again the Flesh Raider pointed at Thravang “Head-thing Jedi hunt. Hunter-den Jedi hunt. Hunt rock-den!”

Viyo turned to Thravang and attempted to translate more fully what Fashk had meant by his words “He... he means you can hunt everything that belonged to him. The other Flesh Raiders. Me, and he's leaving.”

Thravang thought about Fashk's wording and nodded – it now made sense to him.

“Jedi prize. Jedi hunt!” With that, Fashk left, presumably to head to the Jedi temple and test the token that Thravang had given him.

Viyo looked quite relieved “I didn't think you would do that. You... helped him. You saved me. I know my way back to the village. The path isn't too hard from here.” _(As long as he avoids the Hollows, then yes, it is not particularly difficult.)_

Now it was his own turn to return to the village. As he passed by Trea's home, she came out and hailed him “Jedi. You found my son. Thank you.” She made the Jedi gesture of respect with her hands clasped in front of her. She had happy tears running down her face “He told me what you did. He's safe now, and I'm glad his kidnapper is with your Masters.”

Thravang smiled but spoke soberly “I hope the Jidai Council can handle him. I suspect he'll be a … difficult student. Nonetheless, I am glad to hear that your son is doing well.” _(Indubitably more difficult than I ever was.)_

“That Flesh Raider won't harm us again. It's enough.” _(Oh, a very pragmatic approach. I like that, and she's right. One way or another, the Jidai will see to him.)_ “You have my promise: Whenever the elders speak about the Jedi, I'll speak too. My son will speak. This is our thanks.” _(How terrific. They will be living reminders of how the Jidai served them. However, it should not have come to this for the people to remember how the Jidai should serve. This is a massive failure on the Jidai's part. These sûdas ziodrys have ignored one of their very own tenets that they supposedly prize so much. “The Jidai live to serve.” Ha!)_

Once again he smiled at her as he made a supportive hand gesture “With time, hopefully maybe the Jidai and your people can become allies.”

She agreed “Allies on Tython, and allies against the Flesh Raiders. We wish you well, Jedi. Goodbye, and all the best to you.”

 

A few minutes later, he strolled into the Matriarch's quarters to discover her daughter standing next to an empty bed with her head downcast. He immediately had the sense something wasn't right as he came up to her “I shut down the energy shield. Any word on Master Orgus' mission?”

She looked up at him with sorrow etched on her face “No. My mother... she found peace during your absence. I'm now Matriarch.”

He reached out to touch her compassionately, “You don't have to go through this alone.”

Ranna smiled very weakly “People who say Jedi have no feelings are wrong.” She paused to compose herself with a deep breath “Before he left, Master Orgus told me 'There is no death, there is the Force.' He believes our essence lives on when we die and merges with the Force. I hope that's true.”

Thravang nodded “Yes, that's what the _Jidai_ teach. The Force is a part of us and a part of everything. Since your mother is now with the Force, she is also still a part of you. It flows through everything.” He hoped his words would comfort Ranna. He even went as far as to give her a gentle hug before he pulled back a stride's length.

Then there was an uproar outside, and he ran outside to see what the matter was. He swiftly handled the new Flesh Raider's plan of attack before the fields were lost, and returned to the new Matriarch.

After several long moments she glanced at him once more “I saw how you suffered out there. What you did was more than brave – it was heroic. Since you came here, all you've done is risk your life to save us. Why would you face death again and again for people you barely know?” _(Heroic? There is nothing heroic about having crops poisoned. I simply destroyed the devices, it was nothing.)_

There was a pause before he placed a hand on his chest in the manner of his people and inclined his head towards her “The _Jidai_ Order's greatest honor is to protect and serve others.”

She murmured with lidded eyes “You serve your ideals well,” then she held out something to him “Please accept this token of affection from my people. You've earned it.” He took it and glanced at the token in his massive hand. It was a Twi'lek child's rendering of him on a large scrap of parchment. The drawing was rather child like, but yet it was rather adorable. He rolled the drawing up and tucked it away in his belt pouch. “I should go inform everyone that the danger is over, and consult with the scouts how to beef up the security of our village walls. If you would excuse me.”

He bowed and stepped away to walk outside. Just then his holocom chimed and he pulled it out of a belt pouch and turned it on. The blue flickering figure of his Master came to life “Finally put the Flesh Raider base out of commission. How are things on your end?”

“Master, I'm fine, but I spoke to your old Padawan over the holo. He's doing all this so he can destroy the Sith. Also, it was a good thing that I returned to the settlement. Flesh Raiders tried poisoning the crops and I stopped them.”

Master Orgus reacted with surprise at the news “Poison? They're getting desperate. Then he's not Sith himself. That's good. If I can get to him, reason with him...” _(By the black blood of Adas, are you serious? Have you lost your mind? There is no reasoning with him! He did not heed my words, why would he heed yours?)_

Blessedly oblivious to his new Padawan's thoughts, Master Orgus continued “At the Flesh Raider command base, I found coordinates to a number of secret camps – too many to send only Jedi Masters to handle. One camp is in the ruins of Upper Kaleth. That patrol you fought earlier was based there. Now is your chance to finish them off.”

Thravang did not care for the idea “Why spread our forces thin to hit all the camps at once?” _(Spread too thin, and there is the risk the Flesh Raiders will slip past our defences._ )

His Master answered “If we only go after a few, the Flesh Raiders could warn the rest and regroup. Be careful in those ruins. We haven't explored them all. Contact me when your mission's complete. May the Force be with you.”

Thravang gave a curt nod “May the Force be with you as well, Master.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References are taken from the Jedi Knight story on the game SW:TOR


End file.
